


The Color of Boom

by gypsiangel



Series: Finding Home [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Newt Scamander, BAMF Original Percival Graves, Eurpoean Wizarding society isn't as forward thinking as MACUSA, F/M, Female Newt, Genderbent Newt Scamander, Hurt Original Percival Graves, I'll add more as I figure it out, M/M, Male alter-ego, Period Typical Sexism, Protective Theseus Scamander, Romance, This is my first try at genderbending, seemed like a good idea at the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2018-10-13 20:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 72,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10521585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsiangel/pseuds/gypsiangel
Summary: This wasn’t entirely the way she’d wanted to touch base with her brother’s friend, Percy, but in some epic twist of irony, it made total sense. He already thought she was a complete heathen with insane ideas on what would be appropriate for a woman of the times...In other words, gender-bent version of Fantastic Beasts where Artemis Scamander figures out the game and runs everyone on a merry chase.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Omg, I can't believe I was bit by this one. I'm usually not a fan of changing the genders of the main characters for my own stories. I really like the slash parings, that's why I read and write them. But this idea kinda got me and I went with it. Hopefully you guys like it and someone actually reads past the first chapter ;) Please drop a line to tell me how ya like it! The title of this comes from an Imagine Dragons song called 'Polaroid' and it ended up being one of the catalysts of getting this started in the first place.

 

          Standing on the platform, smoothing down the front of her antiqued cream blouse, Artemis heaved a sigh as the line for customs moved forward a bit and she was jostled a bit from behind. She wished now that she’d taken her brother’s offer of a Ministry portkey instead of insisting that she wanted the opportunity to rest and get her bearings before launching off into another bout of frantic movement.

          The extra funds Theseus added to her vault on the sly, along with the cabin upgrade he’d snuck onto her ticket had actually been appreciated, though at the time she’d been put out by the typical heavy-handedness. Especially when she knew it was against their parents’ wishes. In fact, the last conversation she’d engaged in with her father had included the shouted, “If you want to galivant around like a bloody tramp, you can do it on your own coin! I overlooked the expulsion and your refusal of the Malfoy proposal because your mother and Professor Dumbledore pleaded your case. But this is going too far. As of this moment, Artemis, you are cut off from the Scamander funds. Until you come to your senses and decide to start acting like a proper pureblood lady of station, you’re disinherited.”

          Angry and hurt, she’d bit off the retort about this expedition being funded by her superior at the Ministry and that she really didn’t need his money. That’s not what she’d been after. That had never been her end goal. After a long moment of staring at the floor, listening to her father’s furious ranting and her mother’s tearful pleading, Artemis had firmed her jaw, picked up her case, turned smartly on her heel, and left.

         That had been two years ago and she hadn’t seen her father since. She’d gone to tea with her mother a handful of times but had reached her limit on guilt trips and pleas to ‘just give up this silly farce and come home.’ Theseus was the only one that she truly kept in close contact with, and for that she was ever grateful no matter how much of a nuisance he could turn up to be. As far as overprotective brothers went, he was up there. But before he’d ‘allowed’ her to go off on her own, he’d insisted on her taking a month to undergo a one on one training camp with him and a handful of hand-picked aurors. Being that he’d used his clout in the Ministry to get her sponsor to make it a requirement, there hadn’t been much of a choice. It had given her immense satisfaction to wipe the floor with them on semi-consistent basis for the first three days. Artemis could forgive her brother's underlings, since they had no clue of the three years she'd spent in the war. Theseus, though, was just an arse.

          After they'd stopped babying her and really gave it a good go of teaching her things she didn't know, she couldn’t complain. The results had been brilliant in equipping her to be even more capable of handling the shadier aspects of what she’d gotten involved in on her travels. The less Theseus knew about exactly how much she used his training, the better.

         The line moved again and Artemis found herself standing in front of an unamused looking American and answering questions about her single suitcase. He seemed surprised that she was only declaring the one and made a show of looking around for the rest of her luggage.

         Grinding her teeth a little, she flipped the muggle-worthy latch and opened it for him to take a peek. A little smirk appeared at the stack of neatly laid garments, which included a set of simple underthings just for authenticity. Skin crawling just a little, she forced a smile and accepted the, “Welcome to America, Miss Scamander.”

         She wished she could have produced papers in her alter-ego, Newton, call me Newt, but she didn’t trust her own knowledge of the muggle paperwork system to do an accurate forgery. Asking Theseus for help would have been counter-productive because he’d go all sorts of barmy at the thoughts of why his little sister needed to pose as male in the first place. He had enough of those sorts of misgivings just thinking about her traveling in what he considered the ‘safe’ zones. No, Seus had no business knowing how dangerous her travels really were.

         With that firmly in mind, Artemis tugged at the lapels of her blue wool coat and ventured out into New York City to procure a quiet, safe, and hopefully cheap place to lay her head for the next few days. This was nearing the end of her research gathering, and she’d given herself two months to finish up organizing her notes while she made the trek to Arizona to release the newly rehabilitated thunderbird she’d rescued. The smile that touched her lips at the thought of the majestic animal in his habitat was sweet and genuine. She was going to miss him terribly, but it was best for her creatures to find their way back into nature where they belonged. Frank deserved the open, endless skies, and she was going to make sure he got it.

         The city was gorgeous in a way that she could appreciate just because it was so different from everything else she’d experienced. It was cleaner than most of the cities she'd meandered through, newer. She had the thought that it was only a matter of time before it caught up with the rest of the world. They always did. The pace was about the same as London, people rushing about on their way to their daily tasks, attentions on whatever was manifesting in their own lives with little to spare for their neighbors. That was perfectly fine with Artemis. As a rule, she tried her best to blend where she could and deflect where she couldn’t. As an incredibly tall, slender woman with striking auburn hair and overly fair skin, that sometimes proved to be rather hard in the smaller communities. Those occasions had been where disillusionment charms and Newt had come into play and it had worked well enough to get her by. By now, she was an expert at the chameleon glamour magic and could nearly change appearance at will. It was refreshing to be back in a well-populated area where she wasn’t the only freckled ginger on the block.

        Her height was still a disadvantage, however. A former potential lover had once confessed that it was hard to picture himself with a woman that was easily six foot tall in stockings and was at eye level with him. After a scathing remark on his insecurities and poor manners on pointing out such an insignificant flaw, Artemis had gathered her drink and melted into the evening pub atmosphere to finish it, then slipped away. After a few other disasters, she’d decided that it just wasn’t worth it to try and she had better things to occupy her attention. Like infiltrating the back alley occamy poachers and bowtruckle dealers.

         Her ear was caught by a woman’s earnest voice speaking to a small crowd gathered on the steps of what looked like a bank, and she couldn’t help but be drawn in despite the growing distaste of the material being spouted. Did people really believe in this nonsense? In this day and age, and in this modern city, the notion was ridiculous. Of course, Artemis had spent time in much more primitive societies where having ginger hair automatically made you a fit sacrifice for the harvest. _That_ story was yet another incident that her brother was to absolutely _never_ hear word of. She set her case at her feet for a moment, absently tugging at the sleeves of her coat to make sure the healed scars from that incident were still covered.

         She watched with wonderment as the crowd shifted around her, uncomfortable and yet enthralled by the woman’s compelling words. She was good at spinning a tale, Artemis noted. Very good. But thankfully, these modern Americans weren’t suckered in as easy as all that. Most were scoffing and snickering under their breath. Others were outright disgusted by the silliness blocking their access to the entrance of the bank and openly shook their heads with a muttered, “Bullshit.”

         A man came pushing through the crowd and tripped over her case, knocking both it and her forward. There was a quick exchange of apologies, the sweet man pausing long enough to make sure she wasn’t harmed, then he was on his way again. Unfortunately, it was enough to draw the woman’s attention, and she focused directly on Artemis, black eyes going shrewd and sharp in the millisecond Artemis allowed eye contact. Avoiding direct eye contact was an unfortunate side effect of her very personality, and a trait that surprisingly offended and infuriated a good number of people. She just felt a bit too uncomfortable with that much direct attention. It felt sometimes as if she were being sucked in. Eyes were the windows to the soul, and she’d found that to be increasingly accurate the more she dealt with humans. There were reasons animals were much better company.

         “And you, friend, are you a seeker of truth?”

         She couldn’t help the smile that quirked the corners of her lips as she glanced over the woman’s face again before darting over the orange, red, and black signs the small congregation carried with them, depicting angry hands snapping wands in a show of imaginary force. “I’m more of a chaser, actually,” she couldn’t help the small inside joke that no one else would really get. Before the woman could sharpen her hooks and try to reel her in, Artemis caught sight of a familiar dark spike of hide disappearing up the steps and into the bank.

         “Bloody Tartarus on ice,” she huffed, glancing down to see that that blasted latch had come undone, giving just enough leeway to let the menace out. Without another word or even a backwards glance, she charged up the walkway after the damned niffler.

          Two hours later, she was being herded into the grand halls of MACUSA, her wrist held in the tight grip of one Auror Goldstein, the shorter woman reading her the riot act on irresponsible actions and ‘don’t you know the laws? Mercy Lewis, did you do _any_ research before barging into our city?’ Or something to that order. Artemis had stopped listening right about the time the other woman had cut her off for the third time. This wasn’t entirely the way she’d wanted to touch base with her brother’s friend, Percy, but in some epic twist of irony, it made total sense. He already thought she was a complete heathen with insane ideas on what would be appropriate for a woman of the times. Thank Merlin her brother didn’t entirely share those thoughts, or else she’d be on the outs with _all_ her family.

          Seeing the older boy as an insufferable git with an overinflated ego to match Theseus’s, and less sense of humor, Artemis had gone out of her way to avoid the boys when Percy was visiting. It wasn’t always an easy thing to do on the holidays without staying at Hogwarts the entire time, and she’d hated her schoolmates almost as much as being mocked by those dark eyes that seemed to find her just at her worst. She hadn’t seen him since the end of the war, when she’d snuck off to work with the dragons under the guise of taking an apprenticeship with a master herbalist. Her parents had been only too happy to see the back of her for a while, not looking too deep into the logistics of the ‘apprenticeship’, as long as it didn’t have anything to do with dangerous animals or anything potentially scandal-inducing. No one looked too close at her papers then, not even when she’d slipped into the training ranks as ‘Newt’. Baggy dragonhide and a brutally short haircut went a long way when you were seventeen, a beanpole with hardly any curves to speak of, and the powers that be were desperate for warm bodies that knew more than the grammar school tidbits about dragons.

          It was a miracle she hadn’t been killed when Theseus had caught her about eight months into her stint, Percival right behind him as her older brother drug her out of sight of the others and tore into her like a rabid wampus. It had taken some quick talking to stop him from blowing her cover and shipping her home immediately. To be honest, it had actually been Percy that had calmed him down, pointing out that this was probably the baby-faced lunatic that was actually making headway in training the dragons to ride into battle. She’d been nearly floored when the boy she’d thought hated her not only convinced Theseus that she was more than capable of staying, but dropped the bombshell that he was the new commanding officer that was taking over for the division so he’d be there to watch her back.

          She hadn’t known exactly how to process all of that. After she’d picked her jaw up off the ground, she’d just focused on the fact that she was happy to be staying and not being sent back home with her tail between her legs and another layer of shame on her shoulders. Though it would have been a bit much to say that she and Percy became _friends_ in the next year, they’d learned to respect each other. Artemis thought that maybe Percy had come out of it thinking that she wasn’t as much of a waste of space as he’d previously thought. He’d been moved to a different command post, leaving her behind with an actual smile and a clap on the shoulder. That was the last time she’d seen him to date.

          She’d stayed with her assignment for another six months after that, then had been sent home after a disastrous encounter with enemy fire that resulted in a firestorm that killed her beloved Ironbelly, Izzy, and shattered her left leg in four pieces and scored the flesh of her back to ribbons. She hadn’t been reprimanded or set down in shame when the officials had realized that she had lied about her gender- and her age-, but they hadn’t given her the commendations her male counterpart would have earned for his service. Everything had been hushed with a guaranteed salaried spot at the Ministry when she recovered, and then she’d been sent back to her parents, who had been less than happy to learn of the whole debacle.

          As she and Auror Goldstein made their way through to the hall containing her superiors, Artemis forced herself not to think of those times. She rarely allowed herself the mixed luxury of dwelling on it, as it had both been the best and the worst times of her life. In her head, she was turning the words around, trying to find the best way to explain how all of this came about. First, she decided, she’d have to actually use her words, and hopefully manage to shut them off again once she came to her point. Her shoulders slumped just a little. This was the hard part. Why couldn’t she just… just… go about her business without having to explain anything? What was it to them why she was here? So, there’d been a little mishap with the niffler. She’d fixed it and put back all the shiny things Horace had pilfered. The only thing that hadn’t been remedied was the muggle who’d seen her, and the absence of an obliviate was directly due to the busybody auror that had barged in right at the worst time.

           It wasn’t going to be that easy, and she was going to have to use words. Out loud. To the Director of Magical Security, Percival Graves, after nearly seven years of silence and who knows how many rambling, ranting letters her brother might or might not have sent him.

         Bugger.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, I wasn't expecting such a response! Thank you! <3 This next chapter was kind of hard to get out, but I knew it needed to be done to move on. This is where the plot diverges from the movie, so there's going to be some noticeable changes. I glossed over a lot of the dialog in the beginning, wanting to get past it and into where my own AU starts. After this chapter, it should carry less skimming over plot points and become more of my 'normal' style. :D I really hope that I don't disappoint you guys. Thank you again for reading this and don't hesitate to drop me a line, be it good or bad (though try and keep the bad to a positive critique if you have to leave it ;) ) Cheers!

*~*~*

          The moment she saw Percy Graves across the room, huddled together with other high ranking MACUSA officials, she felt a horrendous mix of relief and abject horror. There was no way in hades that Theseus wouldn't hear about this fiasco. Her brother was going to have kittens, then lock her safely away in the country cottage in Wales they'd jointly inherited from old Aunt Aggie.

          After he'd been called in to a hospital in Prague after her run in with a set of vicious demiguise breeders that left her unconscious for nearly a week and bed bound for three while the mediwitches re-grew the left side of her ribcage and part of one kidney, he'd been techy about any sort of trouble. She'd woken up to the sight of her big, over-emotional war hero brother pale as bleached parchment and bawling his eyes out. She'd been ushered back to London for a month where he'd smothered her with well-meaning attention and barely concealed passive-aggressive bids to convince her to break contract and just stay home. It hadn't done anything but make her more determined to finish. She'd taken the coward's way out and left a letter for him to find on the kitchen table before sneaking out in the early morning.

         She'd avoided contacting him for nearly three months before breaking down and sending an owl while she was in Greece. After receiving the expected howler, she uncovered her ears and read the accompanying letter that told her he loved her and understood. But the next time he was called in to gather her sorry arse from _any_ sort of trouble, big or small, he was pulling rank and closing it all down. Theseus had reminded her that as the Director of Magical Security at MOM, he had the authority to make sure she was taken completely out of her position and stuck in as his secretary.

         She swallowed hard when the serious-faced group turned to look at them and a look of intense irritation fluttered across their faces. When the President started speaking, Artemis kept her head down and eyes averted, not wanting to see the resigned surprise on Percival’s face. This could go a couple different ways, either he would be moderately pleased to see her, or disgusted that she was being brought in front of them as an apprehended criminal. There was none of that, however, as Ms. Goldstein was coldly shot down and ordered back to her place in Wand Permits with a firm, icy reminder that she was no longer an auror and she was not to interfere or bother them with minor inconveniences.

         A glance back up and she met cold black eyes that held absolutely no recognition as they darted over her form impassively. Numbly, she allowed Ms. Goldstein tug her away. A bit later, when she noted Percy’s arrival in the small, cramped area in the lower levels of MACUSA where the Wand Permit desks were stowed, she felt her heart skip again with anxiety and a bit of something she wasn’t prepared to look at too closely. Here it was. She kept her silence and watched as Tina’s supervisor, a short, self-important type that she had dealt with more than her fair share, straightened his spine and put on a layer of deference that left a bad taste in her mouth. Office politics had never been her thing, and she figured it never would be.  

         Artemis stared, a chill going down her spine as the man that looked like her brother’s best friend once again gave her that slimy, dismissive once-over she was used to getting from upper managerial types. Despite, or because of, her family influence at the Ministry, there were a lot of people who looked at her as a disgrace. And the male department heads were the worst. She didn’t fit with your typical office type, and she never had. When she was at home, she fit the dress code only because she hated being called out for anything, and her immediate superior had seemed to delight in humiliating her at every turn. That was, until Theseus had gotten wind of it and put a spectacular stop to it. She’d tried to explain to him that making a big deal out of things just made it worse. You call out a bully and they just get sneakier about their harassment. So, yes, Artemis was very used to the barely disguised distain in the casual glance. 

        But she never thought she’d see that particular, rather generic look from _Percy_. Clamping her mouth shut, mostly because she couldn’t bring herself to speak in a steady voice, she watched in resigned horror as Ms. Goldstein, in a rather pathetically eager to please rush, explained that, “Ms. Scamander let loose an unidentified beast into a no-maj bank, causing general mayhem.” She snatched Artemis’s case out of her hands and darted toward the desk, explaining that the beast was inside. Heart sinking somewhere below her belly-button, Artemis knew for sure that something was seriously wrong when Percival waved his hand to stop her instinctive step forward, dark eyes flashing a silent, stern warning.

        He didn’t know her; none of the anticipated reactions were coming into play. He didn’t shake his head in exasperation, he didn’t pinch the bridge of his nose or send the patented, prissy stink-eye she was sure he only developed to lob in her direction when she’d done something truly spectacular. He didn’t even smirk and ask why Theseus let her off her leash long enough to wreak havoc on his city. None of the usual Percy-isms manifested. There wasn’t even a glimmer of recognition when the name ‘Scamander’ came up.

        Whoever this was, it _wasn’t_ Percival Graves.

        The minor relief of seeing a case filled with pastries instead of the open maw of the entrance to her sanctuary was almost lost in the maelstrom of near panicked emotion at the realization that something was very, very wrong. The disappointed huff of, “Tina,” as he shook his head and walked away _was_ very Percy, so whoever this person was, they’d done their research. It was only years of schooling her demeanor into something that approached normal that made it possible to hide her growing fear.

         She forced down the rising fight or flight response and followed Ms. Goldstein out of the MACUSA headquarters and onto the teeming streets. This was bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. She barely heard the other woman’s prattle as they went in search of the muggle that had grabbed her case on accident. After they found one Jacob Kowalski by way of crumbled walls and a very disgruntled crowd of onlookers mixed with the muggle police, Artemis quickly slipped ahead of the former auror, moving to repair as much of the ruin as she could. _This_ she could certainly manage, and for a few moments, she focused entirely on damage control and finding her case.

         The next hour was enough to push her concerns aside, but once she was seated on the Goldstein sisters’ sofa, her newly recovered case situated within sight, Artemis mulled over the last few hours with a growing dread gnawing in her guts. The person wearing Percy’s face wasn’t the same man she’d known most of her life, and the thought of what had possibly gone wrong to get him into that spot was making her feel sick. Merlin have mercy, what was she going to do about it? She had to find her creatures first; of course, they always came first. It irritated her that her first instinct was to send off an owl to Theseus. She could just about hear it now; ‘What do you mean, it looks like Percy, but isn’t Percy? What kind of evidence do you have to corroborate this? Listen, Art, I think you need to take a bit of a break from this travelling nonsense. Maybe come home for a bit. You don’t have to stay with mum and dad, you can stay here in London with me.’

        No. No, she couldn’t put this on her brother. She knew she wasn’t giving him enough credit, and given the increased attacks on muggles by Grindlewald and his followers, he would in all honesty take her very seriously. But it would certainly be enough to tip him over the edge to come and retrieve her himself. That was the last thing she wanted. When her brother got involved, she was pushed safely to the sidelines with a gentle kiss on the cheek and a pat on the head. No, Theseus wasn’t an option unless things went very, very wrong.

         She glanced at the Goldstein sisters, then over at the muggle, Mr. Kowalski, who had been inadvertently sucked into the whole mess. She would need help, she was smart enough to know that at least. But would they believe her? Artemis remembered the nearly nauseatingly eager way Tina had tried to give up her case, and the harsh words she’d spouted after Artemis had commented on their backwards laws regarding muggle relations. ‘Who would marry _him_ ’ indeed. How could she trust someone so openly for the ban on magical creatures in America? Next thing she’d be preaching on the benefits of _exterminating_ instead of rehabilitation. It was all hideous propaganda, and… and it was the same no matter where she looked. Britain was in some ways worse.

         In any event, this wasn’t about her creatures, she reminded herself firmly. At least, not entirely. Yes, she needed help, but were they the right ones to ask? Would they even believe her? A cup of steaming, fragrant tea appeared in front of her, offered with a smile tinged with worry. “You’d be surprised at what we’d believe, doll.” Queenie’s honey voice cut into Artemis’s thoughts, interrupting what was shaping up to be a full on mental panic. “You’re safe here. Despite Tinnie’s jumping the gun.”

         Artemis took in a careful, deep breath and wrapped her fingers around the warmth of the teacup. “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from peeking about in my head, Ms. Goldstein.”

         There was an automatic flush, but she still smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. You were broadcasting really loud there. I’ll try not to. If it makes you feel better, I can’t read you all that well. Your pattern is a bit random.” Then, as if she hadn’t just been admonished, she dropped the other shoe. “Do you really think Director Graves has been replaced?”

         There was the sound of breaking glass and all eyes turned to a rather pale Tina. “What?!”

          Artemis scowled and stared down at her fingers, rough and unpolished through years of working with animals and the elements. Shoulders slumping in resignment as she was forced to reach a decision, she nodded. “Whoever is wearing his face is decidedly not Percival Graves.”

         “How do you know,” Tina demanded hotly, pressing her hands on her hips and pinning Artemis with a dark-eyed glare. “You’ve barely met the man. You haven’t even been in the country for an entire day yet.”

         “Your assumptions can be a downfall, Ms. Goldstein. If you would stop and listen for a moment before jumping to conclusions, you would have less of a chance of looking like an idiot,” Artemis snapped quietly, her patience meeting its end. She wasn’t normally so antagonistic, but it had been a very long day and she was frightened and tired. She wasn’t good with people on a top day, and this hadn’t necessarily been one of her best. All she wanted was to go find her creatures, get them safely back into her case, then find Percy. She felt a heaviness in her chest and a burning in her eyes that felt suspiciously like tears and it made her even more irritated. Now was _not_ the time for this.

         “Hey,” Queenie touched her wrist gently, making Artemis jump. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

          No, it wasn’t okay. Artemis sucked in a steadying breath and moved her hands away from the well-meaning woman. She glanced up at the sound of an embarrassed throat clearing. Tina looked mildly ashamed, her cheeks reddened as her posture changed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Scamander. I- you’re right. I was being an ass, and I know better. Things haven’t been good around here for a while and I guess I’ve been a bit… one-minded.” She hesitated and took a seat at the kitchen table, glancing over at Mr. Kowalski, who was looking at everything with bright, eager eyes. He was still pale and sweaty, but after their impromptu dinner, he looked a lot steadier.

         He smiled and waved a hand, “Don’t mind me, ladies. I have no clue what’s goin’ on, but I can keep my mouth shut.” Artemis found herself liking him more and more the longer she was in his company. He was sweet and honest, qualities that were blindingly rare in her world.

        “First, why don’t we get rid of this Ms. and Mr. stuff,” Queenie said, waving her wand to bring the teapot closer to top up Artemis’s half-full cup. “Call me Queenie. That’s Tina.”

        “Artemis,” Artemis mumbled, and actually smiled despite herself when Mr.- Jacob beamed at her from where he was nicking another biscuit off the tray.

        “Artemis, like the Greek goddess of the hunt?”

        “Yes.” She felt her shoulders relax just a little. “My mother named me after one of her prize hippogriffs." Unfortunately, she'd failed to live up to the expectations.

         “Oh, honey, your mama-” Queenie cut herself off at the narrow-eyed glare Artemis sent her way. Now wasn’t the time for such things. They had more important items to discuss.

         “How do you know Mr. Graves,” Tina asked, finally reaching for a cup to pour herself some of the tea. It wasn’t necessarily her beverage of choice, but at this time of night, coffee would have been a bad idea. “And what gave you the idea he’s not who he says he is.”

         “I’ve actually known Percy for a very long time. He’s friends with my brother, Theseus. I haven’t seen him since before the war ended, but I don’t believe he would have forgotten me so easily. He spent quite a few holidays with my family.”

         A clear picture popped into her mind's eye of Percy in his somehow still immaculate uniform as he’d stepped into the dragon pens for the last time, a goodbye on his lips. He’d been so handsome, a fact that Artemis had tried very hard to ignore since she’d realized it after being shoved together with him for nearly six months. When he wasn’t around Theseus, it was easier to see the hints of personality peeking out behind all the mischief. She hadn’t been one for noticing the attractive qualities in men- or women, for that matter. People were just… people. Later, examining her feelings- or lack thereof- when it came to those baser urges, she figured she’d been a ‘late bloomer’. Unfortunately, unattainable and infuriating Percival Graves had been the one to catch her eye. And he thought of her as an annoying little sister that was more trouble than she was worth.

        She’d known that he was leaving. Their camp wasn’t that big, and while she was very good at pretending not to notice anything but the dragons, she had sharp ears and a keen eye that missed very little. To this day, she refused to admit to herself that she’d been hiding from him, not wanting to see him before he left; afraid that he’d see right through to her pathetic infatuation. She saw him again as clear as day- dark hair falling into his forehead, equally dark eyes finding hers over Izzy’s broad neck.

        “Do me a favor, huh, Scamander,” he’d said, sounding a bit more gruff than normal, though there was a rare smile playing across his lips. “Don’t do anything stupid to get yourself killed. Theseus is bad enough as it is.”

        “I make no promises I can’t keep, sir,” she’d responded with a cheeky grin that expertly hid the pang of hurt. Even at nineteen, she’d been more than adept at deflecting and hiding her true feelings. There was a flicker of something in his expression that disappeared almost too quick for her to see it.

        “I mean it, Art,” he’d said, dropping the old nickname Theseus usually used. “No idiot maneuvers. There’s too many not going home as it is. Stay smart, stay safe, and go home in one piece, all right?”

        “That goes for you too, Percy,” she’d shot back, for once not following protocol. There hadn’t been anyone else around to witness their little moment- Izzy and the other dragons were too alert to let anyone else get close without a fuss. “Theseus would be very put out if his little friend didn’t make it back in one piece.”

        Artemis blinked away the sight of his head thrown back in a full laugh. That was the last time she’d seen him before today. Queenie was sighing next to her, a soft expression on her beautiful face. Artemis scowled and huffed, a little irritated at the other woman’s insistence on intruding. Her emotions were high, which made it easier for legilimens to pick up on.

        Quickly, she raised her teacup to her mouth and explained to Tina, “I last saw him about seven years ago, near the end of the war. For a while, he was the commanding officer over the encampment where I was stationed.”

        “You were a part of the war,” Tina’s eyes got even wider as she looked the other woman over with new eyes. “I thought the Brits weren’t too keen on having women in the ranks. Were you a mediwitch in the field, or communications?”

         Artemis avoided her eyes and tried to fight the urge to get up to pace nervously. This was much more difficult than she’d anticipated. She didn’t like to speak in depth of her time in the war. Most just assumed she took the typical female roles and left it at that. Then there was the Ministry’s stance on her service, which was that they were grateful for her actions, but it was a source of shame that a then sixteen-year-old girl had outsmarted the enrollment wards put in place to keep such breaches under control. She had been seventeen when she’d entered proper training, but it had still been an oversight. If they would have known she was a female, and from a pureblood line without parental permission, they never would have let her leave Britain. All of it was preposterous; she hadn’t been in any more or less danger than the military mediwitches that had littered the battlefield. She could almost hear Theseus’s voice saying dimly, _“Dragons, Art. Bloody fucking dragons.”_

         Once again, Queenie’s eyes gleamed at her from across the coffee table, still admiration etched across her face. “Oh, you were so brave-”

         “No,” Artemis said sharply, getting to her feet in a fit of agitation. “My service time is of no consequences to the situation at hand. We need to focus on Percy and finding my creatures before they’re hurt or discovered.”

          “I still don’t understand how you knew that Mr. Graves wasn’t- isn’t who he says he is,” Tina insisted. She crossed her arms over her chest. “If I’m going to risk getting canned completely, I need to know for sure.”

          “It’s not anything I can prove just yet. You have no real reason to believe me, Ms. Goldstein, I understand that, but Percival didn’t know me. You saw him, did he look like he recognized someone he’d known since he was very young? There should be records somewhere that prove that he spent three weeks almost every summer holiday at the Scamander estate. I would be very careful looking into those records, however, as that would be something our imposter would be looking for as a possible threat.”

         Queenie stared at her sister for a long moment before saying softly, “She’s telling the truth, Tinnie. You know I can spot a liar from thirty paces.”

         “There’s more,” Artemis insisted, now that she was going it was hard to stop. Her lips curved in an unpleasant smile, “What about your demotion? Was it because of something truly deserving of a stint in Wand Permits? Has there been a rash of such demotions, or sudden extended out of town assignments of the better of your colleagues? What about reassignments to other parts of the US, justified as a need to help out other jurisdictions? Has there been any outright disappearances, though those would be very few and far between as to not call attention to them?”

          Tina was looking sick by the time Artemis was done speaking, her mouth pursing as she tallied up the numbers. “Okay,” she said finally, her voice subdued and a little thick. “What do we do now?”

          Artemis felt her heart ticking just a bit faster. “Right now? I need to go into my case and do a headcount, to see who is missing. Then I need to get them back. After that, we need information. Maybe another trip into MACUSA is in order? We can plan a bit further after my darlings are back where they need to be.”

*~*~*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU! All of you guys are so beautiful it's unreal! This chapter seems to jump ahead, but I was getting impatient to get to the good stuff and it was kinda hampering the entire story. Instead of trying to sort out how to get where I wanted and risk getting stalled, I cheated and skipped ahead. Don't worry, I didn't leave out too much, and if you guys like, I can do a set of one-shots to go more into detail of how they wrangled the beasts back into the case and the planning stages. This is truly where the story goes off on its own, and where I think it gets really interesting. This chapter feels a bit short to me, but Mercury in Retrograde is kicking me in the electronics, so I have no idea when/where/how my wifi connection is going to fritz out. I'm gonna post what I have while the opportunity is fresh. :D As always, comments are soooo welcome and help me keep motivated. <3

*~*~*

        Heart in her throat and her clammy fingers tightly gripping her wand, Artemis dived under the bar at the back of the wardrobe in the master bedroom of Percy’s flat, slipping through the heavy winter jumpers and neatly pressed shirts covering the hidden doorway. A quick _alohomora_ was sufficient to break the weak lock and allow her access to the dark cavern and the rickety looking stairs leading down. There was a whoosh of cold air and a foul stench that made her raise her wand hand to cover her mouth and nose. It wasn’t an unfamiliar smell, and she felt for a moment as if she were going to be sick. Percy was down there, in the midst of the heavy copper of excessive bloodletting and the rot of death. Tears stinging the backs of her eyelids, Artemis forced herself to send off a _lumos_ bubble ahead of her, lighting the stairs with a glow just bright enough to light her way. She didn’t want to see any of it. _Oh, Merlin, Percy, I’m sorry. Please still be alive. I couldn’t bear it if you weren’t._

         She was going in alone, relying on the Goldstein sisters and Jacob to distract the imposter at MACUSA, giving him enough of a chase to keep him occupied and unable to check on any wards she may set off. It had taken nearly three days to iron out a plan; one to gather her creatures back up again, one to plot it out, and a third to argue the finer points and get Artemis and Tina on the same page. After a bit of stubborn back and forth, the two women had finally come to a few compromises that led to a viable plan of action that actually stood a chance at working. The biggest argument had been about Artemis infiltrating Percy’s high end apartment alone, having made an educated guess that if he were still alive, that’s where the imposter would be keeping Percival. In the end, and with a bit of help from Queenie, she’d convinced the other woman that she was perfectly capable of sneaking in and back out again, as long as they did their part and kept the others busy at MACUSA. She’d had plenty of practice at it, after all. Not that Tina needed to know the particulars just yet.

 Artemis was beginning to really like the elder Goldstein sister. The other woman could be a bit bossy, but her heart was in the right place. A bit too much on her sleeve, but in the right place. Queenie, on the other hand, as genuinely sweet as she was, there was that keenness underneath the fluffy exterior that showed a lack of innocence. As a natural legilimens, she’d seen more than her fair share of what lurked underneath the civilized mask most people wore. It was a wonder that she’d kept any of that buoyancy.

        Shaking off the apprehension she felt for the others, she pressed forward. She needed to focus on what she was doing. They were capable and more than aware of what they were dealing with.

        Nearing the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated as what looked like prison cells stretched out in front of her, lining a rather narrow walkway. All she could see in the dim glow of her conjured light were the metal bars covering yawning pits of blackness. Feeling sick, bile heavy at the back of her tongue, Artemis forced herself forward, praying to whoever may be listening that she was going to find Percival alive and in one piece. She stood in front of the first cell and sent the light in, charming it brighter to see what, or who, was inside.

        There were lumps of flesh lying in stinking piles all over the concrete floor. She had a split second to take it in before she was backpedaling, tripping over her own feet to land on her backside before quickly turning onto hands and knees. She hauled in a shaky breath and the stench of it all made her gag and then heave. After there was nothing left to come back up, she moved back a bit and automatically vanished the mess with a weak wave of her wand.

         She sat there for a moment with her back against the cold, damp wall, just trying to breathe with her eyes closed and painfully aware that time was limited. It wouldn't take long for the imposter to realize that the others were running him a merry chase and come looking to see what was up with the tripped wards. If he wasn't already there in the shadows, watching her now. At the thought, she shivered and forced herself to move, as if the very thought of it would bring it about. There was nothing to do for the poor soul... or souls, there seemed to be too much for there to be just one. _Oh, Merlin_. She stopped herself, pressing the back of a wildly shaking hand to her mouth. No more of that. It could be dealt with later.

        The second cell was nearly as bad as the first, only the victim (she couldn't bring herself to call them a prisoner) was hanging by near skeletal wrists at the back of the cell, any visible flesh cut from what must have been lashings. He was long dead, his flesh gray and mottled with decay. Artemis swallowed hard and turned to the last concrete cage.

        Tears fell and a shattered cry left her lips as she found Percy, her Percy, in a similar position as the dead man. He was bare chested, his shirt in tatters around his shoulders and arms as welts and sluggishly bleeding cuts decorated his reddened skin. He was covered in filth and bruises, his handsome face now bearded, covering up gaunt cheeks. Another quick wave of her wand and the doors to the cell came open with a shriek of metal and loud clanging. The moment she stepped inside, she could feel the wards finally activate. Clever, she thought. So very, very clever. She’d been assuming that the entire area was warded against discovery and she just hadn’t been in tune enough to pick up on the trigger. This was obviously set up so that the captor would be alerted when it was too late for the intruder to make a hasty retreat.

        Not giving herself any more time to dawdle, Artemis rushed forward and unlocked the manacles encircling her friend's wrists. Stomach lurching dangerously again, she ignored the tremble in her voice as she took his weight once he wasn't being held up by his bonds. Gods, he was too thin. How long had he been down here? "Percy? Darling, can you h-hear me? It's Artemis, love. Theseus's brat sister. I'm here to take you out of here."

        The response she got shocked her, though looking back on it later, it really shouldn’t have. Percival reared back as if she'd struck him, shoving her away with enough force to topple her to the ground and into a puddle of something she would rather not think about. His voice was a rough growl, harsh from misuse, "No, you son of a bitch, I won't let you use her like that! Not her. Use anything else. I'll end it myself rather than watch you use her face against me."

        His eyes were shiny and glazed as he stared at her with a frightening intensity, rage making his battered frame quake. She startled, realizing that he thought his captor was using her form to make him talk, to lure him into a false sense of security. Her chest went tight and she swallowed a sob as she realized the depth of cruelty her friend must have endured to this point.

        She thought fast, thinking of trivial but memorable things that only she would know. There really wasn't much time. She had to get him into her case and the two of them to safety. "When I was eight, you were fifteen. I snuck into the courtyard while you and 'Seus were mucking about and tumbled head first into the path of the stinging hex you were flinging at my brother. The two of you thought you'd killed me."

        Her rapid words had him blinking, his mouth trembling open as cracks of belief started breaking in.

        "You thought you were going to be sent home, but I rallied and wailed like a total nutter when you tried to go for my parents." She felt her heart flutter when he truly looked at her. Bringing it home, she said softly, in a wavering voice, "When I was thirteen, I smuggled home my first niffler over the summer holidays. It stole three of the brass buttons off your good jacket and an entire pouch of galleons out of your trunk."

        Percival's voice cracked when he spoke again, "The little bastard also ran off with my grandfather's watch. I'd gotten it for my twentieth birthday."

        "M-may I approach now?"

        At his unsteady nod, Artemis shuffled forward so that she was kneeling in front of him. "I need to get you inside my case, then I can get us out of here. We don't have time for explanations, or for me to look you over properly. The Goldstein sisters are working in keeping your imposter busy, but now that I've tripped his alarm, I'm positive he should be on his way at any moment."

        "You brought that illegal monstrosity into my city?"

        "Don't scowl at me, mister. It's saving your skin right now. You can rake me over the coals when we're safe and I've had a chance to patch you up." Her voice broke on the last word and she had to swallow hard past the painful lump in her throat. She closed her eyes when his large, icy hand cupped her cheek, stilling her movements. He shifted toward her and she gasped when he brought their mouths together in a gentle press.

        "I had a lot of time to think about all the things I regretted not doing in my life," he murmured against her lips. "That was at the top. Just in case things go south, and I never get another chance, I just wanted to know what it felt like."

         Artemis pushed forward those last couple inches and touched her lips to his again with a little sigh. "Don't worry, Percy. I'll get us out of here in one piece, yeah? Do me a favor, though, won't you?"

         His eyes, red-rimmed and still hazy with pain and being isolated in the blackness for too long, narrowed at her while a faint smile hovered on his chapped and bloodied lips. "What's that?"

         "Don't let me panic and avoid this. I'm a bit of a flight risk, you know, and I've been moon-eyed over you for long enough." While she was rambling on, she eased him to his feet as gently as she could while still going quickly. "There's too much to be done, and I'm rather upset at the thought that you might have..." Her voice trailed off into silence and she realized that she was close to losing composure completely. There was absolutely no time for this. Later. She could deal with the fallout later.

         They made it to where her case was sitting innocently by the far wall, exactly where it had been dropped in her horror.

         She held a silent Percival up with one arm around his waist while she opened the case with her free hand. "In you go, love. The bed is off to the side of the shack, linens are clean. If you have the strength, the loo is off to the left. Dougal will no doubt mother you a bit, so don't be alarmed. He means well, and to be honest, you need some care. I'll be in as soon as we-"

         Percival stopped her by cupping the back of her neck and resting his forehead against hers.

         "Thank you, Art. Don't do anything stupid, all right?"

         "I don't make promises I can't keep, remember? Don't fret, Percy. Trust me."

         Once the lid was closed and latched after him, Artemis took a moment to set her shoulders before attempting to disapparate. Just as she thought, there was a tug of magic, then nothing. Shaking her head, she pushed herself forward and took the steps at a run. She was mildly surprised that the flat was still empty. No one was waiting for her. Doing a quick scan of the bedroom, then the study down the hall, she _wasn’t_ surprised at the lack of Percival’s wand. In order to make the ruse work completely, the imposter would need it to mimic his magical signature. It wasn’t too much of a bother, she reminded herself. Percy was a master of wandless magic. He could do well until they could either retrieve his wand or get another.

        Something else caught her eye, however, and she quickly snatched it off the pedestal on her way out the front door. No use sneaking about now. No one hindered her progress as she exited the front garden and swiftly made her way toward a secluded spot to apparate. All of this had been too easy, and she had a bad feeling about it. But she had Percy, he was safe. She was safe. For the moment.

 

*~*~*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so awesome! Thank you for reading this and for all of the support you've tossed my way. I really hope I don't disappoint you as we go in deeper. Here's another quick chapter :D Yay! Percy!

*~*~*

          Dougal was about the size of a very hairy six year old, with a kind, almost dopey face and a gentle but stubborn grip as he greeted Percival when he stumbled off the ladder and into what looked like Artemis’s living quarters. The moment his feet hit the rough wooden floor, his legs collapsed under him and he landed in an undignified heap with a pained grunt. For an agonizing few minutes, it was all he could do to keep breathing. Pain wasn’t something new for him; it had become a constant companion since Grindlewald had ambushed him what felt like a lifetime ago. There was a part of him that was certain that this entire thing was a cruel dream, a nightmare wrapped up in a fever-induced fantasy.

          A teacup of water was pressed against his lips and he jerked back, inhaling sharply as it jostled his broken ribs. Dougal’s kind face never wavered, and he insisted Percival drink. After a long moment of staring, he finally parted his lips to let the cool liquid pass. He had never tasted anything sweeter, and he wanted to cry as it soothed his painfully dry throat. He’d been given just enough food and water to survive, the quality and safety of his rations questionable. The creature’s paw was warm and dry as it patted his cheek, a soft cooing sound showing approval. Before he knew it, there was a potion vial taking the place of the teacup.

          “Oh, no,” Percival croaked, shying away from the offering. There was no way he was taking an unknown potion from a child-sized monkey, no matter how intelligent and helpful it appeared. “Sorry, buddy, but I don’t know what’s in that.”

          A small piece of parchment was attached to the vial and Percival took it shakily, blurry eyes barely able to make out the familiar scrawl. _Don’t argue. It’s a pain reliever mixed with a healing draught._ He barked out a laugh that he regretted immediately. Of course, she had this set up beforehand. Of course, she had a trained… whatever creature this was… to take care of him while she was out risking life and limb against the fucking terrorist that had overpowered him and kept him in a cage for months. Percival closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing, reminding himself that Artemis was a capable witch and he’d seen her handle raging dragons with a nonchalant grace where other, more physically imposing, powerful wizards had quaked and nearly pissed themselves.   

          It had frightened him then, and it frightened him now. Did that woman have _any_ self-preservation instinct at all? After another long moment and a gentle nudge from Dougal, Percival drained the vial. After all he’d been through, poisoning couldn’t be too bad, could it? The effect was immediate, his muscles loosening and the agony of his untreated injuries fading back to almost tolerable. Dignity aside, he eased himself down so that he was lying on his back, staring up at the strange pattern on the ceiling of what Artemis had called her shack. He listened to the gentle sounds around him, letting it and the warmth of the case soak in. If this was a hallucination, he decided, that was all right. He could enjoy it while it lasted, and hopefully return to it later when he was jerked back into reality.

          Of all the fantasies his traumatized mind could have conjured, this was a good one. It had all the components, he mused, allowing his burning eyes to close. Just the fact that it was his best friend’s unattainable little sister as his rescuer was too good to be true. His lips cracked a smile at the image of Theseus’s face if he caught wind of Percival kissing little Artemis, even in a dream. He’d been fascinated with the fae creature since he’d first seen her when he visited the Scamander estate when he was young, and she was even younger. Mischievous, freckled, and all over the place, she’d been brilliant and noisy, chattering nearly non-stop. She’d followed him and Theseus everywhere, much to his redheaded friend’s chagrin, and her mother’s irritation.

          He hadn’t known how to act around her. As an only child, his only contact with other kids had been school, and even then he was expected to be above the rest of his classmates. His parents had drilled it into him that he was a Graves, and the only heir. He couldn’t let them down. He had to be the top of his class, with no outbursts or shenanigans. Then, he’d met Theseus Scamander through the pen pal program that had been set up to encourage international communications for their future leaders. A cynic even then, Percival had seen right through it. Busybodies with too much time on their hands had tried to arrange connections while they were still young enough to see it as friendship. It had surprised the hell out of him when he actually liked the boy he’d been paired with. It had surprised him even more when, after two years of writing to each other, he’d gotten an invite to go overseas for an extended stay.

          It had kicked off a close friendship that had lasted, and had started an unhealthy obsession with a girl seven years younger than him and far too wild for the likes of the esteemed Graves family. His heart had ached as the years passed and he saw less and less of that innate joy he’d been fascinated with on that first visit. The Scamanders were traditional in their views of gender roles, as were most of the British community. It was all right for boys to roll about in the mud, looking for bugs and random creatures. It was accepted that boys would climb trees and tear their trousers, for them to read everything they could find on dragons and grafforns and nundu and recite it back in a brilliant show of memory and skill. It was not all right or acceptable for girls to do the same.

          Artemis had never fit into what her society had wanted for her, and people were cruel. Year after year, he watched her retreat further into a shell, becoming more awkward and quiet as he battled with his own social ineptness. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to actually speak to her other than in terse, weird spurts that was absolutely no benefit to either of them. So, he’d gone on play adventures with Theseus as a boy, more risqué adventures as a young man, and more dangerous ones as an adult. In the corner of his eye, he’d seen her grow into a beautiful shade of the pixie he’d first met.

         And then there were dragons.

         He choked out a laugh as he remembered the way his stomach had dropped to his knees when he’d seen her as he and Theseus were in the middle of the initial tour of his new assignment. He’d known it was her immediately, despite the masculine cut of her uniform and the close-cropped red hair. Theseus had recognized her immediately as well, and he’d felt his friend go rigid beside him before marching over to take the tall figure by an arm with a terse, “Come with me.”

         Both of them red-faced and furious, Percival had stood a bit in awe at the way the younger girl faced her brother’s fury. Jaw set stubbornly, green eyes flashing, lips pursed, he’d been struck by the force of the emotions it invoked in him seeing her that way. There was dirt and ash streaked across the sunburned line of her jaw and cheeks, her lips were chapped from exposure to the elements, and her dragon-hide uniform hid anything feminine about her figure. She looked more alive than she had in years. That spark was there again, the one he’d been powerless to stop from fading out under the pressures for her to be ‘normal’. She’d been eighteen, far too young to be in the middle of a war. Far too young to be training dragons, to be _riding_ the blasted things. Far too young for him to be feeling those kinds of feelings toward.

        It had gotten worse the more he worked with her, and there was more than one instance where he wished almost desperately that he’d sided with Theseus and had her sent home. Every time he glimpsed the pure joy written across her face as she approached beasts that could (and had) maim men twice her size, it sent a shard straight to his heart. When he saw her joking and laughing with the other men, safe behind her guise as ‘Newt’, he marveled at the sharp wit that came when she was finally comfortable. The ribbing she took was good-natured and affectionate, though there were still times where she’d gotten that dark look and slowly eased back from the rest.

        When he’d gotten the owl informing him of his reassignment, he’d had the urge to refuse, to argue that he was still needed there. A dozen weak excuses came to his quill, and a half-dozen good ones. In the end, he’d decided it was for the best. Art didn’t need a pervy babysitter looking over her shoulder, getting ideas about finding her alone near the bathing tent. As a necessity, she usually waited until the very late- or early morning hours to bathe. It had been on the tip of his tongue to offer to stand guard.

        Percival felt a soft, wet fabric against his face and he was brought back from his half-doze, memories fading slowly. He looked up at Dougal’s gentle face and blinked. If he was dealing with any other sort of rescuer, he really would have believed he was just hallucinating all of this. But it was Artemis, and there really wasn’t much in the way of logic involved in any of her escapades. He tried to reach up to take the cloth from the monkey-like creature, but stopped with a grimace as white-hot pain shot straight through his core. His hand fell back to the floor and Dougal responded with a reassuring cooing sound.

        Pain meant you were still alive, he reminded himself as he tried to ride it out. Right?

*~*~*

         Pacing the small confines of her boss’s office, Tina felt a little bit like she was going to be sick. What the hell were they thinking? This was never going to work. The plan had been simple. So, of course it fell apart in a spectacular show of Murphy’s Law in force. She never should have brought the Barebones into this mess, but it was the only thing she could think of that would get the director’s attention without jeopardizing her career further. Mr. Graves had been known to have a bit of a soft spot for her, which was why she’d merely been demoted instead of outright fired after the incident with the New Salem fanatics.

         Queenie was perched on the edge of the little sofa, watching her sister fret with an air of cool indifference that expertly hid the anxiety jumping just under her skin. After Artemis had left, under Tina’s continuing argument on the safety concern of her going alone, the sisters and Jacob had discussed the finer points of their distraction strategy. Jacob was very much an only if desperately needed standby. As a no-maj, he had more protections than they did, but it could escalate things to awful consequences for all of them if he was brought to attention.

         Tina had been the one to bring up Credence Barebone and the children under Ms. Barebone’s care. She wasn’t quite sure how she knew, but something was niggling at the back of her mind about the entire situation. Queenie had latched onto the idea and ran with it, quickly spinning a viable story to engage Mr. Graves’s attention.

         And that’s why they were sitting in his office, waiting for the man to return from a quick errand. He had let them into his office and had leaned back against his desk, arms crossed as he eyed them with a cold curiosity that had just hammered home the differences in this man verses the ‘real’ Graves. As standoffish as her boss could come across, Tina had never seen his eyes so lifeless. Cunning and icy, he stared them down, waiting for them to start speaking.

         “Sir,” Tina had started after a long moment, and the hesitation to approach the subject wasn’t all an act. “I-”

          There was a visible shiver that went through the man’s body and his face fell into a frown. “Excuse me for a moment, ladies. I have to go see about something really quick. Shouldn’t take long,” he said abruptly, then was gone.

          Stomach sinking somewhere down around her navel, Tina looked at her sister wide-eyed. “Give it ten minutes, then we go in search of him.”

          So here it was, eight minutes later, and the office door reopened to re-admit Mr. Graves. He looked impatient now, moving again to lean against his desk. His posture was certainly different, the line of his shoulders tense, and the set of his jawline tight. “I’m a very busy man, Ms. Goldstein. I suggest that you get to the point quickly and not waste my time.”

          “Sir, it’s about Credence Barebone,” Tina said in a rush, “He’s in real trouble, sir. I know I wasn’t supposed to have any contact with the New Salemers, but I couldn’t help but try to keep an eye on him. There’s more to it than just a no-maj abuse case.”

           A muscle ticked in his cheek and Graves eyed her blankly. “This had better be good, Goldstein. Your next stop is working the cafeteria.”

          Queenie stepped in softly, her golden eyes steady as she made full eye-contact. It was like peering into a cold black pool. A shiver went down her spine as she spoke. “It’s my fault, Mr. Graves. I was doin’ some errands a couple days ago and I saw him out back of that awful church. He looked so thin and sad. I told Tina when I got home and we did a little digging.”

          “That woman,” Tina started, her face heating up with real anger, then stopped and started again at Graves’s warning look. “Mrs. Barebone, I mean, she’s worse to the children than she was before, sir, and no one is doing anything about it. I know we’re not supposed to be involved in no-maj affairs, but I was thinking that maybe if we somehow contact the no-maj child services department anonymously and maybe point them in their direction…”

          Graves’s face never wavered from his odd expression of near bland irritation. When Tina’s voice trailed off weakly, he sighed and it seemed as if he were trying to make an effort to sound genuine and caring. “Tina, we’ve been over this before. There are laws in place for a reason. Besides, there is nothing guaranteeing that anything would be done. It might even make the situation worse.”

           "But-,” Tina tried, but was cut off by a him holding out a hand.

           “I can’t make you any promises, but I can speak with our Madam President and see what we can arrange. But you have to promise me to stay away from the Barebone family.” He leveled a glare at Queenie, “That means you too, Queenie. I don’t want either of you getting into more trouble. As sad as the kid’s situation is, it’s not worth the both of you losing your jobs or worse.”

           “Thank you, Mr. Graves,” Tina said, and tried to smile but was afraid it was a rather pathetic, wobbly thing. She hoped that they’d bought Artemis enough time. One way or another, there wasn’t anything else they could do without drawing suspicion. It had been almost an hour and a half from the moment they’d engaged him near the auror bullpen till now.

           When they left, Queenie went to chat with one of the young aurors with a desk nearby, batting eyelashes and turning up the airhead charm. Tina was less smooth, but was saved when one of her old colleagues noticed her and engaged in a mundane conversation that she only partly paid attention to. Both of the sisters watched the director’s door, waiting for him to leave. When another forty minutes passed and he still hadn’t left, they said their goodbyes and went on their way. Queenie headed straight for the door, while Tina made her way down to Wand Permits to put in for a couple days of leave. It might seem suspicious, but she didn’t think that she could concentrate on her work if she was there and fire-calling in would look even worse. Besides, what if they actually _found_ the real Mr. Graves and they really were working for an evil imposter? What then? It was best to have an out ready.

          Abernathy gave her a narrow-eyed look when she handed him the paperwork. “It’s nearly the anniversary of when my parents died,” she fibbed, and wished that she could call tears as easily as Queenie could. “It’s tradition for Queenie and I to go out of town for a couple days. I’m sorry it’s so short notice, but with everything happening, I couldn’t… I didn’t remember until my sister reminded me. You know how sensitive Queenie is. I don’t want to upset her more by not going.”

           Thank Merlin her boss hadn’t been her boss for long, and he had a soft spot for her little sister a mile wide. He signed off on the papers with a token grumble and a warning for her to not wait so long next time. Then he added, “Go ahead and take off the rest of today too. Tell Queenie I send my condolences.”

           “I will, thanks,” Tina replied, not commenting on the fact that he never offered _her_ condolences. Creep.

          As she met up with her sister near a no-maj café a couple blocks away from their building, she was left with the unsettled feeling that all of this had been too smooth. She worried about their new friend and whether she was successful in finding and retrieving her real boss. They’d all agreed on meeting at Central Park as a neutral spot just in case something went wrong. Artemis had been adamant that they take all precautions to keep the Goldstein apartment off of any possible tracking spells.

          The other woman, strange as she was, certainly knew her stuff when it came to this kind of thing. In a way, they clashed on a basic level. Both headstrong, but in different ways. Tina was bossy and played pretty close to the rules. Even though she wasn’t an auror anymore, that’s all she’d ever been or wanted to be. Ever since her Ilvermorny days, it’d been her dream to be a part of the magical law enforcement team, and she’d excelled at it. She _had_ excelled at it until she’d crossed the line. Artemis... was not orderly or necessarily law-abiding. It wasn't very overt, but the tall redhead wasn't exactly all that good at hiding her penchant for rule-bending. It had set off an irritating alarm bell at the back of Tina's head. There was much, much more to Ms. Scamander than what was obvious. In a way, it reminded her of how Queenie hid her own capabilities.

         They’d gotten off to a bad start, and she could admit that a big part of that was her own fault. Losing her spot as an auror had stung deeply and she had been a bit too eager to be seen as competent and useful. All it had done was make her look like a total ass to two different parties.

         Queenie nudged her gently. “Stop that,” she chided, “There’s nothin’ to be done about it now.”

          Tina didn’t answer, just hunched deeper into her coat and kept walking.

*~*~*

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Stars, you guys are awesome! I'm so happy with the response I've gotten on this fic! So sorry it's taken me so long to get back to posting, real life decided to ramp up the wtf and my brain went on the fritz. This chapter is a bit on the short side, but it gets us rolling again. :D Again, thank you so much for reading this and responding so beautifully! I hope I continue to do it justice. <3

*~*~*

         By the time the Goldstein sisters had made it to where she and Jacob were waiting, Artemis was fidgeting with the button at the wrist of her coat and trying not to pace. Jacob had been waiting for her eagerly at the predetermined spot, eyes bright and spouting questions that Artemis really didn’t want to answer. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what to say, she just couldn’t bring herself to say it. Seeing Percival in that horrible place had rocked her, hard, and she was having a bit of trouble processing. It was moments like this that reminded her of why she was so much better at going it by herself. No one expected you to form coherent sentence structure when there wasn’t anyone else around.

         She wasn’t used to dealing with other people when she was unbalanced like this. A loner by choice, she was much better at slinking away to a quiet place to deal with things. She ached to go down into her case and surround herself with the soft sights and smells of her creatures. Percy was waiting for her too, needing care that she knew she could provide but was worried it wouldn’t be enough. In preparing for her traveling, Artemis had known that she would have very limited access to healers, and she’d taken it upon herself to learn as many healing charms, big and small, as she could. What she couldn’t learn immediately, she hoarded books on. Potions had always come easy for her, so that part of it wasn’t so difficult. Through the years she’d tweaked the formulas a bit, tailoring them for her own specific needs. To be honest, most of the modifications had come either by accident or because of lack of essential ingredients. There had been more than once where her meddling hadn’t ended well, but she figured eyebrows always grew back and she was still relatively unscathed.

          After informing Jacob that yes, she had found Mr. Graves, she’d shushed the poor man in the kindest way she could manage and was relieved when he seemed to understand and lapsed into silence.

          Shifting from foot to foot, her agitation seemed to get worse the longer they waited and she noticed Jacob open his mouth to speak a couple times, then apparently deciding against it. Tina and Queenie came around the corner just as it seemed he’d gathered his courage and started to speak, “Artemis, are you-?”

          Sending him what she hoped was a steady, reassuring smile, she stepped forward to address the sisters. “I found him in a secret compartment inside a wardrobe, he’s alive and coherent, but not in very good physical shape.”

          Tina paled and looked as if she were about to cry, one hand raising to press against her mouth. Queenie was staring at Artemis with horrified eyes, obviously gleaning the particulars from the surface of her mind. It should bother her more than it did, but instead she was relieved that she didn’t have to speak the horrifying details out loud. At least one person would know.

          “Oh, honey,” Queenie sighed and reached out as if to touch Artemis’s arm, but retreated when the other woman stepped back, neatly evading.

          “I’m fairly positive that I triggered a tracking spell when I entered Percy’s cell, but it seems to be centered merely on living beings and not items. I would need one of you to check for it once I step inside my case to see if it’s still viable. If it isn’t, then we would have a chance at taking the time to do what needs to be done.” Artemis was speaking quickly, nearly spitting her words out as if she were afraid they were going to disappear all-together. Simply removing the tracking spell was much easier said than done, and she knew that it would take more effort and time than they were equipped to spare at the moment.

         “Sure, we’ve gotcha,” Jacob piped in, hands in his pockets as he reigned in the urge to touch a soothing hand to the slender woman’s trembling shoulders. He wasn’t much of a touchy-feely guy, but there was something about a broad in distress that brought out those gentler instincts. There was a fragileness to the witch that made him ache for her, a haunted paleness to her cheeks that hadn’t been there before when he’d been helping with her creatures. When she’d been teaching him about the different habitats and their inhabitants, there had been a happy glow to her despite the situation. Her smile had lit up, and she’d clearly been in her element. There had been a guardedness to her that had been starting to thaw out a bit, but it seemed like whatever she’d seen when she rescued Graves had slammed those walls back up.

         Jacob had known people like that before, the ones that had been through too much and had seen too much to trust others with that vulnerability. He hated seeing how rigidly she held herself away from everyone else; she was barely holding it together. He had sisters that had always looked to him for comfort and cheering up, but something told him that Artemis wasn’t the type to accept casual stuff like that, even if he didn’t mean it in a creepy way.

         “I don’t know the first thing about magic and tracking stuff, but I’ve got a hunting cabin my uncle owns outta town. No one should be using it right now, and I’ve got a key. Should be out of the way enough, right?”

         Neatly stepping back another step, Artemis unconsciously tried to put a little more distance between herself and the others. Again, she wasn’t trying to be rude, but it just wouldn't do to have any offered comfort. It might tip her completely over the edge and into the horrible emotional pit she could feel just under the surface. Queenie seemed to understand, her own eyes watery as she nodded her understanding. Tina looked a mix of relieved, horrified, and guilty as she stood next to her sister with her hands firmly back in her coat pockets, fingers clenched into fists.

         "Oh, honey, we'll take care of it, don't you worry none. We've got a few days off from work, and we’ll take Jacob up on that cabin. There’ll be no connection between us and a no-maj homestead. Nobody'll be looking for us there. We can go and sort it out, okay?” The blonde sister was quick to jump in and reassure, her own fingers fluttering to nervously touch the perfect curls at the side of her head.

        It was both irritating and a relief to not have to put words to what she needed. In response, Artemis nodded and said simply, "Thank you."

        “Now, I think I’m gonna go in with you to help,” Queenie said with a rare stubborn set to her chin. She cut off the protest when Artemis opened her mouth to argue, “Nope, I ain’t listenin’ to any of that. He’s bad off, honey, and it might be more than you can handle. I’ve got a couple terms of healer’s courses in me, so I’m not worthless at it. Tinne and Jacob can handle stuff out here, can’t you?”

         Tina and Jacob both looked about to burst with questions, but Queenie held them off with an abrupt shake of her head. "We’ll explain later. Right now, we need to get outta town. Me 'n Art can go see to Mr. Graves while you two take us there.”

         Artemis felt her stomach pitch in a strange way at the casual way the other woman had picked up her old nickname. As yet, she was only the third person to ever have used it. It was just another layer of emotion she felt poor equipped to deal with. She swallowed hard and set her case down and stiffly opened it. There was a part of her that recognized the risk she was taking in trusting them. One false move and all of their lives were forfeit. Her creatures would be destroyed and she and Percival would be executed in one fashion or another.

         Instead of questioning or cautioning, she muttered, "Feel free to come down once we're safe. You all know the way."

         The moment she was safely inside, and she’d stepped aside to let Queenie land gracefully beside her, Artemis allowed herself a few deep breaths. Her usual philosophy of ‘worrying only makes you suffer twice’ was completely thrown out the window with this situation. She felt her throat go tight as the gravity of it all swarmed her. Her feet were frozen to the floor as the familiar comfort of her case did just the opposite of what she’d hoped. It triggered that feeling of _safe_ , which her psyche decided was the perfect time for her to deal with events.

_No, no, no. Not the time._ She turned her back to Queenie, staring blankly at the wall of books that lined her workstation as she tried desperately to stop her stomach from coming up. She flinched, harder than necessary when a cool, small hand touched her elbow.

         “It’s okay to have a good cry, Art,” Queenie told her gently. “After what you saw, it’d be good for you.”

         Artemis shook her head and stubbornly wiped at her eyes, “No.” She hated the way her voice broke, and she cleared her throat and tried again, “No, I can’t. Not now. Percy still needs me, we haven’t the time.”

         As if on cue, Artemis felt Dougal's familiar paw slip into hers and she looked down at his round, furry face and felt a thrill of fear go down her spine at the urgency conveyed in his overlarge eyes. He tugged and she went with him, easily keeping pace with his quick steps. Queenie stepped swiftly behind her, thankfully keeping her words to herself as they were led to Percival. He was curled up on his side, just outside the door to her bedroom. He was visibly trembling, his skin so pale that it seemed to carry a bit of grey. Artemis immediately knelt by his side and pressed a hand to his forehead, anxiety spiking when she found him cold and clammy to the touch. Had she waited too long to get back to him?

         "Percy, darling, can you hear me?" She sucked in a deep breath and focused on getting him upright and into her bed so she could start with the diagnostic spells and triage. There was so much that was needed, and her heart lurched painfully as he hung limply between her and Queenie as they worked together to carry him into her bedroom. She quickly spelled away all of the bedding except for the crisp, clean sheets. Everything else in her room was hastily transported to the other room, giving them the space they needed to work around him.

          Artemis was dimly surprised that she and the younger Goldstein worked so well together, the other woman quickly firing off the diagnostics, a golden scroll appearing above Percival’s head, spidery black writing appearing rapidly across the parchment. Artemis worked to get the shreds of filthy clothing off of him, conjuring a bowl of hot water to clean the visible wounds. After that, it was nearly systematic. Both worked from the top of the list down, treating the most severe to the least.  After the fourth rib cracked back into place, Artemis had retreated into that safe place in her mind that allowed her to deal with things without emotion taking over. Everything was locked down tight and she was able to tend to what needed done without the horror of it all making her hands shake. She ignored the concerned looks Queenie was sending her over the top of Percival’s prone form. He was too still. Even with the deep sleep charm the blonde had cast, he was barely breathing.

          Once they had done all they could do and Artemis had covered him with a blanket- the softest one she owned and her own personal favorite, she just stood there and looked down at him. His color was good. Still not healthy, but better than the grayish hue he’d had when they started. The bruises were still livid, some of them too deep to heal right away. Some of his injuries were too severe to completely mend all at once. It would take a few days to get everything back to ‘normal’.

          Artemis barely felt it when Queenie took her arms and tried to lead her back away from the bed with a murmured, “Come now, Art. Let’s get you some tea. We’ve done all we could. He just needs to sleep now.”

          She resisted, stubbornly planting her feet and gripping the bedside with white-knuckled fingers. “All right,” Queenie conceded, but summoned a chair and guided Artemis into it. “At least sit down before you fall.”

          When Queenie came back from making the mentioned tea, she felt a little part of her heart break. Artemis was clutching Mr. Graves’s hand near her face, thin shoulders hunched and heaving with the painful force of her sobs. Silently, she set the tea on the bedside table with a warming charm on it and retreated to give the other woman a much-needed moment alone.

 

*~*~*

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, I love all of you so much! <3 Here's another short chapter. Sorry it's not very long, but I wanted to get it posted before I go to work. I have all day tomorrow to work on getting caught up on my writing, so expect more before the weekend is done! As another quick warning, there's graphic mentions of attempted non-con here.

 

        She was in there with him. Percival could smell her; the earthy mix of damp soil, fur, and freshly cut sunflowers curled through his senses like a precious whiff of amorentia. Her hands were gentle on his face, the thin, cool appendages easy on his overheated face. He couldn't see her, the darkness in his cell so complete that he wondered if Grindlewald hadn't taken his eyes too. It had been a long time since he’d seen another person or heard anyone else’s voice, other than that twisted parody of his own.

         "Oh, Percy," her voice was thick with tears, strangled and forced out around high emotions. He hated hearing her sound so broken. The last time he'd heard that particular tone from her had been the summer after her near expulsion from Hogwarts. She hadn’t looked at anyone except for Theseus, avoiding him especially. He’d seen her press her face to her brother’s shoulder, finally breaking down to cry out the hurt. He’d been jealous of his best friend in that moment, a quick jolt of sick in his chest that he hadn’t really known how to deal with. He’d wanted to be the one holding her, comforting her. But she hated him, and the last thing he’d wanted was to make anything worse.

          There was a pressure at the back of his head, then the sensation of a thick material being drawn away from his eyes. He blinked furiously, fresh pain bolting through his skull at the dim light of the lumos ball floating behind her. When his eyesight cleared some, he could see the hulking figure looming behind her. His stomach dropped, and his mouth opened to shout a warning, but no sound escaped. It seemed as if by some cruel twist, he could suddenly see every detail of his doppelganger as it crept closer, and yet his vocal chords were frozen.

          "Darling, I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner. It's all right, we'll have you out of here in no time." Artemis chattered on, speaking more for the comfort of her own voice, as wavering as it was. "You should've listened to 'Seus and accepted the spot with MOM. None of this would've happened. You could be safe with him in London, out of this horrid mess. _Merlin,_ Percy, I’m so sorry."

           The figure behind her raised a mocking finger to his mouth, a cruel smirk twisting his lips as it came closer.

           He felt the chains on his wrists shift, then they were falling to the concrete, his arms falling painfully with them. Percival tried to grab her, to pull her away, to push her back... anything but sit there like a fucking lump. He couldn’t move, the pain of his injuries keeping him immobile. All he could do was watch with a growing horror as his double gripped her upper arms and hauled her roughly upward and away from him.

           There was a gasp as she was jerked up and back against a broad chest, her wand clattering to the ground as the imposter gripped her delicate wrist and twisted viciously. She didn't scream, and dimly Percival remembered that she wasn't a screamer. It was something their entire unit in the war had remarked on. He'd seen her take a fire bath from one of her dragons that had been injured in flight without making a sound. He'd tended her burns himself, sickened but admiring the way she held herself under a solid silence, grinding her teeth when she might have cried out.

           The dark chuckle was pressed against the side of her neck and she tried to flinch away, her face shockingly white against the blackness of the cell. “Now, now, little one, it’s all right. I’ve got you. We’re going to have so much fun, aren’t we, Percy?”

           Percival did everything in his power to move, to surge forward to rip her away from the monster wearing his face. He was rooted to the spot, and no amount of straining could change it. Her eyes were wide and her mouth dropped open, eyebrows lowering as the shock wore off. “Get your hands off me,” she growled, and started struggling, pushing at the arms moving in perfect counterpoint to whatever maneuver she attempted. Percival felt his mouth drop open, a shout prepared, but nothing came out. He felt the helpless rage boiling just under his skin, burning hot as he watched large, brutish hands grip her hard, bruising tender flesh.

           “You’re not my usual type,” his double sneered against her cheek, palming one modest breast through her thin blouse, squeezing hard. She gasped and jerked, digging heels in to try and twist out of his hold. “But your feminine wiles aren’t exactly abundant, so I can make this work. See, our Percy over there is much more my type, and we’ll get to that later. But you… you I want to make hurt. I could call a subordinate in to do the dirty work for me… but I want to see our dear Director’s face as I take what he’s always wanted.”

           “B-bugger off,” Artemis growled, arching her neck to avoid the hand coming toward her face, fingers digging into her chin and holding her more firmly back against him. Two fingers hooked her bottom teeth, and she bucked and tried to turn, but he held her tight, laughing darkly into her ear.   

          "Oh, the things I can do to you, Ms. Scamander.”

           Percival felt the black rage building and building, festering and growing under his skin, drawing his magic up and up, even though it was trapped and he still couldn’t move. It hurt. Everything hurt, but this was so much worse. So much power with no place for it to go. Black eyes found his over Artemis’s wildly struggling form, and he watched as his own hand cupped her sex through her trousers and she gave a wounded, furious sound that turned his insides to ice. She kicked her legs, bucked her hips, but it was to no avail. Her face was held in place, fingers digging in and jerking her chin downward, making it impossible for her to bite.

           _No, no, no, this wasn’t the way this was supposed to be!_ He felt unconscious tears trail down the filth on his face as he watched her be forced onto the stinking, damp stone.

          “Percy! Help me!” He choked on bile as she called to him for help, the panic high in her voice as she fought to free herself from the body pinning her. Her thigh was forced to the side and hips held firm as Grindlewald ground his pelvis into her.

           _Artemis! No, let go of her you son of a bitch!_ He couldn’t shout, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but watch with his magic pulsing just under the surface. She screamed and it burst out of him in a blinding pulse.

           _“Percy!”_ He came awake to the sensation of being encased in warm, soft arms and the reality that he’d been screaming. “Percy! Love, it’s all right, you’re safe. Darling, you’re safe, and you’re not there anymore. We’ve got you.”

           He swallowed hard, his throat raw from strain and couldn’t form the words to tell her that it wasn’t himself that he was terrified for. He wrapped his arms around Artemis, and ignored the surprised ‘oomph’ sound she made when she was pulled the rest of the way into the bed. She went willingly, tense but quickly softening when she felt the violent trembling that rocked through him. He burrowed around her, moving on instinct rather than logic as he buried his face in her hair and pinned her half under him, shielding her from a non-existent enemy.

           She squirmed for a moment, and just when he was about to let her go, she shifted so that she could get an arm around his back, her hand coming up to stroke his hair, relaxing into him. “It’s all right, Percy,” she murmured, “It’s all right now. I’ve got you.”

          She wasn’t understanding, and he couldn’t make his voice work enough to tell her. Instead, he just held tighter and tried to reorient himself to this new reality. He had no idea what was real and what wasn’t. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here, clean and warm and not in total agony. He was stiff and the ache went bone deep, but it wasn’t fresh. It wasn’t all-encompassing. He could see the gentle, golden light of the room through his closed eyelids and knew that he wasn’t _there_ anymore. He could smell her in everything, and the scent alone did more than anything else to calm his fluttering pulse.

           “I- I couldn’t,” he tried, his voice rough gravel. “S-sorry, Art. I co-couldn’t stop-”

           “None of that,” she whispered, and he could feel her breath on his collarbone. He slowly realized that he was clutching her to him like one would a stuffed animal, his entire body curled up around her protectively. “We’re all safe. You’re safe.”

           He shook his head. She still wasn’t getting it, and the adrenaline was wearing off. Exhaustion pulled at him again, and he fought it, not wanting to go back to the darkness that he feared sleep would bring. He wanted to stay here with her. He didn’t want to go, but he felt himself slipping away again, his body gradually going lax.

          “No,” he muttered, trying to shake himself awake again. It wasn’t doing any good.

           “Sleep, darling. I’ll still be here when you wake.”

           _But what if you aren’t?_

 

*~*~*


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I have to say a huuuuuuge thank you to all of you! It really makes my week to see that all you guys are enjoying this. :D This chapter is again a bit on the short side, but I have a horrid weekend ahead of me that includes going out of town for a funeral. I wanted to get his out before I disappear. <3 That said, this part is pure fluff with a dash of angst. I hope y'all like it!

*~*~*

         Dougal had taken a shine to Percival, in a way he hadn’t to anyone but Artemis. Honestly, the demiguise had always been very peculiar in who he allowed around him and Artemis, being very protective over his ‘Mum’. He borderline hated Theseus. The first few encounters between the two had ended in a rather spectacular disaster of ‘accidents’ and passive aggressive behavior that had puzzled Artemis until she’d figured it out. After a forced sit down with the two ‘alpha males’, which she didn’t find as ridiculous as she should have, they’d come to an awkward truce. As mild-mannered and sweet as Dougal could be, he could also be incredibly territorial.

          As she watched the demiguise climb into Percival’s lap and wrap himself around his torso as they all gathered in the temporarily expanded workroom/study in her case, Artemis found herself smiling fondly. Percy, for his part, was a bit bemused and very kind about the attention. At first he was caught off guard, not knowing what to think about it. Now, after nearly a week of dealing with finding himself stalked and claimed by the furry mammal, he didn’t even blink. He seemed to take comfort in it, wrapping a casual arm around Dougal and carding an absent hand through the long, silky fur.

          Most of his lighter injuries had healed well under her and Queenie’s care, a regimen of potions and a steady influx of healing charms making it much easier. He still moved gingerly and was by no means back to what passed for normal. Artemis rubbed absently at her sternum as she gazed at him, the soft ache not entirely physical. She’d helped him shave when he’d been well enough for it, hovering outside the enclosure she usually used as a shower, just in case he needed her. By the time he was done washing, he’d been shaky and exhausted, but still not satisfied. When she’d gotten him set up with a straight razor and lather, he’d sat in front of the mirror for a long time with an unreadable expression on his face.

          After the third attempt to bring the blade toward his face and finding his hand trembling too hard to safely maneuver it, she had stepped in.

          “Would you like me to help,” she’d asked softly, trying not to be obnoxious in her hovering. He’d looked at her with such desolation in those eyes that it had been hard to keep his gaze. Silently, he’d handed her the razor and moved in his chair so that he was facing her. Going with emotion, Artemis had rested her forehead against his and just stayed that way for a long moment, letting him calm. When his hands had rested gently on her hips and stayed there, she’d had to remember how to breathe properly.

          They still hadn’t talked about what was happening between the two of them, but he wasn’t comfortable if she was out of his sight. While he’d been in the healing sleep that had lasted for nearly two days, he had cried out and thrashed the moment she wasn’t nearby. Jacob, Queenie, and Tina had all pitched in to help with her creatures, but it had been terribly restricting. She had thought it would stop once he was awake, but it was almost worse. He tracked her movement, aware of where she was at all times, getting jittery whenever she was out of sight or hearing. His senses were on hyper-alert, and there seemed to always be a defensive spell at his fingertips. Artemis figured that if she were in his shoes it would be much the same. She distinctly remembered how it was after the time in Prague, when Theseus had kept her house-bound while she healed. The only thing that had stopped her from barricading herself into her bedroom in his flat had been the fact that her brother was just a touch more stubborn and logical than she was.

          At the moment, he was speaking with Tina softly, and by the looks of the tears rolling down the other woman’s face, _they_ at least were facing the inevitable conversation of her not noticing his absence. Percival’s eyes roamed the room, starting with the ladder leading down into the case, then the workroom, then the kitchen area out to what he could see of the habitat. His eyes found her last, and a soft smile turned his solemn mouth upward. She smiled back and took it as her cue to join them again. She carried the tray holding the tea set and floated another tray of biscuits and assorted food. Getting used to having other people around wasn’t entirely without its benefits. She was at least remembering to eat at regular intervals, though being trapped inside her case was starting to grate just a little.

          Tina sent her a wobbly, embarrassed smile, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “We have the tracking spell taken care of,” she informed Artemis after clearing her throat. “It was a nasty bit of business, centered on you and Mr. Graves. We had to carefully navigate through some of the trickier booby traps set into the web. It would have been really bad to get stuck in it ourselves, then we’d all be trapped in here.”

          Queenie took over pouring the tea, having discovered early on that Artemis wasn’t nearly as graceful or comfortable pouring for more than just herself. It was an art that she’d never learned, and the first time she’d attempted it had been a total nightmare. Humiliated and expecting harsh words and looks of complete disgust, the redhead had been surprised when no one batted an eye. Jacob made a quick quip about needing to change his shirt anyway, and Tina had done a smooth swish and flick to repair the cracked teacup. Percival had squeezed her suddenly shaking fingers and pulled her to sit down beside him, continuing his thought on where they should start once it was safe for all of them to go outside the case.

          No one had commented on her shiny eyes and quiet voice when she eventually rejoined the conversation. Since then, Queenie had taken it upon herself to serve the tea, explaining that when they did have tea, Tina usually botched it so it always fell to her anyway. She’d winked one golden brown eye and said it was no wonder her sister was the auror and she was the kitchen witch.  

          “I think we should send an owl to Theseus,” Percival was saying now and Artemis felt her stomach drop. She knew this was going to happen eventually, but had hoped they could avoid it a bit longer. It was a logical step. They were in over their heads, with Grindelwald still impersonating the Director of Magical Security. They couldn’t just pop back in with the real Graves and say, “Ah ha!” The corruption had to go deep into the network of MACUSA for it to have gone on this long. The dark wizard had been digging his trenches deep over the last two months, and had probably been laying the groundwork for it for much longer than that.

          As a group, they’d decided that caution was the best play they could go for, at least for now. They needed to figure out Grindlewald’s end game. What was the purpose of all of this trouble? Tina had mentioned the ‘animal’ attacks that had been plaguing their city, surprised when Artemis had gone intent and sharp with probing questions. She hadn’t much in the way of answers, just what she’d been able to glean from the talk overheard in the cantina and the few conversations she’d had with her former teammates. It seemed that when she’d been demoted, the fake Graves had forbid them from speaking to her about anything on their rosters.

          “He has to have figured out that me and Queenie aren't coming back, after our part in keeping him busy while you did your rescue mission,” Tina pointed out now, looking at Artemis as she raised her cup to her lips. After taking a sip, she continued with a grimace, “The timing has to be suspicious. We show up and talk to him about the Barebone case, his wards get tripped, then we drop off the map for a ‘vacation’. I’d be suspicious too. The minute we walk back in the building, he’ll have us. And even if we bring Mr. Gra-… What?”

          They all looked over at Percival, who had paled considerably as the pieces fell together. Something had been bothering him since he’d woken up. “Art, what do you know about obscurials?”

          Artemis opened her mouth, then closed it, thinking for a moment. “They are children plagued by parasites created when their magic is repressed. It’s usually exacerbated by severe trauma and abuse. They are characterized by powerful, destructive clouds of electric mist that act much like an explosion mixed with hurricane force winds. The outbursts usually occur when the child can no longer hold back the buildup and lashes out. Anyone caught in the crossfire…” her voice trailed off, and Percival’s eyes were drawn to how she held her own wrist, rubbing at the flesh and flexing her fingers. He took her hand, unbuttoning and shoving up the sleeve of her shirt, exposing the still pink ring of scars that circled the delicate flesh. Further up, there were black marks etched into her ivory skin, following what looked like branches of lightning going up to disappear under her shirt.

         “These didn’t come from any beast,” Percival commented darkly, his thumb tracing over the barely healed ring. “What kind of situations are you dealing with?”

          Artemis reddened and pulled her hand out of his grip, pulling her sleeve back down firmly, buttoning it back together. Completely ignoring his question and the shocked gazes of her new friends, Artemis gathered her cup and saucer and carried it to the sink. She continued her narrative as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “The oldest recorded obscurial was eight years old. Rare as they are, the consensus is that they all burn out and perish at a very young age. I believe it has something to do with their quality of life as much as the obscurus turning their own power against them. Aside from being very poorly treated, they are literally consumed by their own magic.”

         “Have you encountered one yourself,” Tina asked curiously, and frowned, exchanging a glance with her sister when Artemis dropped her cup in the sink with a clatter.

         “Yes. Now if you will excuse me, I need to see to the occamy chicks. I believe it’s time for their feeding.” Without another word, the tall redhead ducked out of the shack and into the habitats. Everyone sat for a couple moments in silence, looking at each other and debating whether to go after her or not. Obviously she needed a few moments alone, but was that what was best?

         Finally Percival gently eased Dougal to the ground and reached for the cane Jacob had produced for him, getting painfully to his feet. Mobility was still a bit of an issue, as his left ankle had been shattered in four different places. Skele-gro was a wonderful potion, but it wasn’t perfect and things would remain tender for a few days yet. He figured he should just be grateful that he had access to magical healing. Without it, he’d most likely be bedridden or dead.

         He knew exactly where she was going to be, and it wasn’t the occamy nest; that was far too obvious. He passed the mooncalves in their starry enclosure, glancing in but not surprised to find it void of his magizoologist. The habitat just to the right of the desert plains was where he found her, staring up at the distant wings of her prized thunderbird. She was sitting on a rocky perch a bit off to the side, hugging her legs to her chest as she rested her chin on the tops of her knees. “Years since the last time we were together this long, and you’re still predictable.”

         Her snort was inelegant as she glanced at him ruefully. “Not many people say that about me. Most say my unpredictable nature is one of my more irritating personality traits.”

         “They haven’t been obsessed with you for as long as I have,” Percival admitted, lowering himself slowly to sit beside her. He figured that if he was going to do this, there wasn’t going to be a better time.

         “You haven’t seen me for seven years.”

         “Your brother has a very interesting habit of talking about you nearly non-stop. Every letter he sends has at least two paragraphs dedicated to ranting about your escapades. My favorite had to be when he had to come fish you out of a Romanian ministry jail cell for sneaking into the magistrate’s personal garden to liberate their herd of thestrals.”

          Artemis huffed a sigh, turning her head to lean her cheek against her knee so she could look at him. “The man was a complete idiot with a fetish for things he didn’t understand. He was feeding them grain and letting them graze in an area less than an acre! They were starving. Any first-year could tell you that thestrals are strictly carnivorous.”

          Percival laughed and reached out to tuck one of her curls behind her ear. His eye caught on a small gold stud earring and there was a shot of awareness that went through him. The tiny bit of jewelry was understated and so very _her_ that it made him go a bit soft. In her case and far away from needing to blend in with the rest of the population, she’d taken to wearing soft men’s cotton trousers with her plain off-white blouses and colorful vests. It was a decidedly masculine look that suited her long limbs and willowy build. With her hair cut into a popular bob that flattered her face and the few bits of jewelry here and there, he couldn’t find any fault with it at all. Unusual, yes, as her fashion sense seemed to straddle that middle ground between traditional male and female, but to him there was a very sensual note to the simplicity of it.

          The sudden urge to kiss that pretty earlobe was very strong, but he forced it back and ran a gentle hand down her back instead.

          “I didn’t say you were in the wrong,” he smirked at her indignant pout. “I, personally, thought it was rather amusing that the same boy who had been arrested no less than four times during his years at the auror academy for getting into fistfights was so put out about having to go bail you out from a list of charges that included breaking and entering, general malicious mischief, and assaulting a public servant. He never told you about the garden gnome incident outside the Tower of London, did he?”

          That surprised a laugh out of her and she turned her face away, shaking her head. “Letters or not, I think obsession is a bit of a stretch. You hated me. I remember you and ‘Seus dodging me on your adventures to the forest, running away when I was nearly ready.”

          Percival shook his head, “Art, we were thirteen, you were six. Yeah, Theseus was a bit of an ass. I didn’t know what to do with you, so I went along with what he did.”

          She eyeballed him again, delicate brows raising over skeptical golden green eyes. “And when you were fifteen and I got in trouble for your tomfoolery? Da automatically assumed it was me that set fire to the feed shed. I got ten lashes- five for the crime itself, and five for lying, then locked in my room for a month. Neither of you stepped forward, not even to apologize later. Then it was like you couldn’t even look at me. Every visit, there’d be a few terse words and then you’d disappear with my brother.”

          Percival looked suitably guilty. “I didn’t know you got in trouble that bad,” he admitted. “I didn’t even know Mr. Scamander _could_ raise his hand to either of you. He was always incredibly nice and forgiving to me and ‘Seus.”

         “That’s because you were _boys_ and you were ‘just doing what boys do’. I wasn’t a boy, and I wasn’t doing what girls were supposed to do.” Artemis took in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Her eyes were fixed on the boulders in front of them, carefully not looking at him. “I apologize. Theseus didn’t even know that our Da was so heavy handed with me. After a while I learned how to stay out of his line of sight. If he didn’t notice me, I couldn’t get in trouble. It got easier once I was at Hogwarts.”

         When it looked like he was going to say more, she waved her hand and shook her head. “It’s neither here nor there, Percy. All that matters is now, yeah? We’ve got more important things to fret over.”

         He let it go because she was right, but he stored it away to explore more later. He had a feeling that there was much more to it than the eldest Scamander being ‘a bit heavy handed’, and from the conversations he’d had with Theseus when the other boy needed to vent his concerns about his sister, Hogwarts hadn’t been much kinder to her. Being so much older, they’d shared one year at the wizarding school, Artemis’s first, and Theseus’s seventh. He hadn’t been able to do much about things that she refused to talk about, and ‘Seus had only had suspicions and conjecture to go on. If Artemis didn’t come to him herself, there was no grounds for him to barge in and make it better.

         His friend had confided in him once, right after the war and Artemis had been sent home, that he felt he’d been a horrible brother to her; that he’d failed to protect her in all the ways that really counted. At the time, Percival hadn’t outwardly agreed, just telling Theseus what he felt the other man needed to hear. Deep down, he’d known different. He hadn’t gone to see her during her recovery after the war, and he hadn’t contacted her in any other way except vicariously through letters with her brother. At the time, he’d figured it was best to keep his distance. She seemed to be finding her way. Besides, she had Theseus to do the overprotective bit as he tried to make up for lost time. Excuses. It had all been excuses.

         “Art, please don’t shut me out,” he blurted in a moment of poor self-control. It was his turn to avoid looking at her, instead focusing on his own feet as they were laid out in front of him. All of the thoughts and feelings that had been boiling through his mind during the blackness of his captivity was overflowing now. It was as if someone else had control of his mouth, words falling from his lips in a rush, as if he were worried they were going to dry up.

          “When I thought…” his voice broke and he cleared his throat, trying again, “When I thought that I wasn’t going to get out of there alive, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the wasted time and all of the times it was on the tip of my tongue to really talk to you when we were kids. I kept obsessing over all the times I picked up parchment and ink and wanted to write to you, to ask you for tales of your travels in your own words, only to put it back down again. I never thought that you’d want to hear from me, that’s why I never… But that shouldn’t have mattered. I almost never saw you again. When he… when I was at my lowest, I would think of your face as I remembered it. How your eyes would light up when you came down off of Izzy after a good flight. I don’t want to let you go.”

          He broke off abruptly, realizing that he’d said far too much. Face burning, he wanted to get up and retreat, but didn’t know if he could get back up without making even more of an ass out of himself. When the silence went on for too long, he readied himself to do it anyway, only to be stopped when her cool hand took his.

          “I don’t want to let you go either.” Her voice was soft and a bit tremulous. When he chanced a look at her face, he was stunned to see her eyes shimmering with tears. “I thought you were dead. But, I- I can’t… Oh, Percy, you don’t know what you’re getting into. You deserve much better than someone who can’t even serve tea correctly. I’m not…”

          Emboldened by the emotions he could see swimming behind her tears, he reached out a hand and cupped her cheek. “Shh,” he shushed her tenderly. “Do I look like I need someone to serve me tea? I need someone who gives me a run for my money, who can keep up with my own brand of madness. I need a lunatic that loves dragons and keeps gigantic poisonous felines in a suitcase. I think you ruined me for anyone else a long time ago. I was just an idiot.”

          Artemis leaned into his touch, then smiled when he reached for her to bring her closer. When their lips met for the second time, she thought that maybe the earth tilted just a little. When she pulled back, blinking at the expression of wonder written all over his handsome face, she laughed and went back in for another kiss.

          Dimly, she could hear shouting and crashes coming from outside the habitats. When she pulled back and looked over Percival’s shoulder, she could see Dougal racing toward them, his eyes a luminous white-blue and a look of sheer terror on his face. She shot to her feet, a question poised. She never got a chance to ask, as a familiar tugging jerked on her navel.

          One moment, she was there in her safe sanctuary, warm and secure, then she was gone. When she reappeared, it was in front of a cowering boy with huge dark eyes and a horrendous haircut. The cold bit into her immediately, and she realized that she was in one of the back alleyways in the city, without her coat and without any way of knowing how to get back to her friends and her case.

          “Oh, dear,” she managed on a sigh, reaching up to rub at the headache that just started to tick at her temple. It was good that she was used to having to think on her feet, wasn’t it?

*~*~*

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have no idea how happy you make me! After a weekend from hell, seeing all of the kudos and amazing comments really brightened my attitude. <3 Here's another chapter! Yay! I thought it was a little choppy, but it gets the story moving :D Cheers!

*~*~*

       The poor dear looked like he wanted to run, but was too frightened to move. Artemis immediately checked for her wand, relieved that she hadn’t left it lying about as she was wont to do when inside her case for extended periods of time. It wasn’t always necessary to have it on hand, as magic wasn’t always the answer. With the heightened risk of discovery and possible dark wizard invasion, she’d dug up her old wand holster that had been a parting gift from her brother before she’d set out for her travels. It was a custom leather bracer-style holster that fit her like a second skin, the concealment charms woven into the threading. Anyone looking too closely would see a nice, if old fashioned and thick bracelet. With a flick of her wrist, it was in her hand, making the boy take a startled step back.

        "Easy, it’s all right,” Artemis said softly, trying to sound nonthreatening. She hunched her shoulders a little, trying to make herself smaller, more feminine and delicate. As much as she despised it, sometimes her waifish figure could come in handy. It certainly worked with a lot of her more aggressive or skittish creatures, and she hoped that this wouldn’t be much different. She didn’t want to come across as a threat.

        The boy looked to be around sixteen or seventeen, a bit too thin for his bone structure, so it was obvious to her trained eye that he wasn’t getting enough to eat. He was too clean to be a street kid, though his clothing was ill-fitting and worn. He was wearing a thin jacket that she supposed was intended to pass as a coat, and she could see him trembling. At this moment, it might have been from fear as much as cold. A hand was at his throat, clutching a black talisman of sorts, scarred fingers clutching at it like a lifeline. Artemis’s stomach clenched a little as the puzzle started falling together. Now she knew why Percival had looked so startled and was intent on hearing what she had to say about obscurials.

        “Barebone?” He looked startled and gasped in a gulp of air as if he’d forgotten to breathe for a moment.

        “Where’s Mr. Graves,” he asked, and she had the thought that he was trying to sound demanding and tough, but it fell short.

         “He’s not here,” Artemis replied and could have rolled her eyes at the stupidly obvious answer. “My name’s Artemis. Are you Credence?”

         At his nod, she chanced a step toward him, moving slow. “Do… do you mind if I take a peek at your necklace?” She had a burning suspicion that she knew what had happened, and it was confirmed when the boy nodded his head in a confused jerk and allowed her to approach. He held his breath again as she stood too close, her own long fingers taking the talisman to examine it closer.

         “Of bloody course,” she muttered and could have smacked herself. Of course. A reverse port-key. They weren’t all that common and were exceedingly difficult to get. Not many people even knew they were possible. Theseus had tried to sneak one into her belongings before she’d crept out to go to Greece. She’d left it hanging on the doorknob to his bedroom. They were only for the highest-ranking officials and were usually used only for undercover work or super-secret dealings. As Director of Magical Security, Percival- or someone who was assumed to be Percival- would certainly have access. All of the regulation seemed silly to her, except maybe as a privacy issue. Obviously, if someone didn't realize they had one on their person and it was activated, it could be a bit of a dangerous situation. Artemis looked up at the boy’s face and realized how close she was standing to him. His eyes were like black pools of universe, swirling with pain and power. Those two always seemed to go hand in hand, she mused, then firmly averted her gaze and stepped back.

         The talisman he wore was the match for the one she’d absconded with when she’d vacated Percy’s flat after his rescue. She had taken it on impulse, a quick jerk of intuition that said it would be important. She'd slipped it over her head and tucked it into her shirt, then promptly forgotten about it in the chaos. And now, here she was, standing in front of what had to be the longest surviving obscurial. She recognized the dark power nearly pulsating underneath the poor boy’s skin, just waiting for a lapse in control so it could unleash a firestorm of fury. She didn't know how no one else hadn't recognized it, he was a walking powder-keg of pent up darkness. He was so used to hiding, to holding on. The little one in Sudan came to her mind’s eye, and Artemis felt a flash of pain as she recalled the emaciated form of the child she had failed to save. It would be a tragedy for him to have made it this far, only to self-destruct now.    

         “I can help you,” she said suddenly, her voice thick. She looked at him with eyes gone liquid green, glimmering in the dim light of the distant streetlight. He stepped back, surprise written across his face. “Please, don’t go. I- I know how to help. It’s answers that you seek, am I correct? Please, come with me to get a meal and something warm to drink, and we can talk.”

         He looked unsure, and she pressed a little harder. “Mr. Graves has you looking for someone, doesn’t he? A child with a violent home, and with which strange occurrences may happen; someone who doesn’t quite fit.”

         Credence nodded, looking down at the wet ground, shame-faced. “I haven’t found them yet. I-I shouldn’t have c-called him, I was supposed to when I found them… but I… But, I-”

         “But you needed some reassurance,” Artemis said softly, her heart breaking for the boy. He wasn’t a child, but not yet an adult. He seemed so achingly young, and yet world-weary at the same time. “Come along, Mr. Barebone. I seem to have been pulled along without my coat and I’m getting rather chilled. I hate to think of how cold you must be, having been out here much longer than I.”

          He was softening, she could see it. She started walking, hoping that he wouldn’t call her bluff, and that he’d just follow. She bit back a relieved smile when she heard his footsteps heavy behind her. Now, if only she knew where to go. She had a moment of inspiration and stopped, suddenly looking around to see how isolated they were in this little alleyway. It was well past dark, so there was no one flitting past on the street. Grindlewald must have designated this spot for their meetings for a reason. It was _that_ realization that made her hurry. There was a high possibility that the dark wizard would be habitually checking their normal meeting places in search of the boy once he realized that his end of the portkey was missing.

          Artemis had a mind to warn Credence before she lifted her wand and spoke the charm, “Now, this is going to be rather strange and bright, Credence. Please bear with me. I need you to stay beside me, yeah?”

          As her patronus glimmered into view, she could feel him tense beside her, and she reached out to lay a light hand on his elbow. The last thing she needed was for him to run off into the night, terrified at the blatant use of magic in front of him. She murmured her message to the majestic hippogriff, accepting the affectionate nudge of the beast’s oddly heavy beak before it flew up and away to find Percival. She may not know exactly where the others were, but her magic did.

          She remembered the small, out of the way muggle diner that the Goldstein sisters frequented and started guiding her new charge in that direction. If she was recalling it correctly, the establishment was a late-night dive that catered to the underground clientele. It was one of those places that served food and drink, and didn't ask questions. She searched her pockets and found her pouch of random coin, huffing a bit of a laugh. Through the years, she had been accused of paranoia for all the random things she did ‘just in case’. For the record, this habit of always keeping coin on her person had saved her more than once when she’d been separated from her belongings. Having an excellent memory for past mistakes made for an interesting packing list. Now, she tried to remember what the muggle American money looked like to possibly transfigure it to what was acceptable. Maybe they would take the British pound and she wouldn’t have to fret over much.

*~*~*

         “Sir! Mr. Graves, you can’t just take off after her,” Tina was arguing with Percival, and had been for the last ten minutes. He had made it out of the case and nearly to the front door of the cabin before she and Queenie had caught up with him. He wasn’t even dressed properly, with no coat or proper shoes, having foregone both while he was recovering. “Not like this! You don’t even have shoes!”

         “I can’t just not do anything,” he shouted, then stopped and closed his eyes, running a hand through his unruly hair. Tina couldn’t help but make a comparison to the almost obsessively tidy, reserved man she’d worked with for nearly ten years. She had never seen him like this, upset and disheveled, eyes wild and ready to push her out of his way. It was irrational, and she’d thought that he wasn’t even _capable_ of acting irrational.

         “Hey, buddy,” Jacob ventured, braving the confrontation with his hands outstretched and an easy expression on his face. “Tina’s got a point. We don’t know where Art is even at. She might be anywhere. You ain’t doing her no good by takin’ off half-cocked. We at least need a plan. And I’ve got some shoes that might fit ya, okay? We just gotta slow down and think this all through, right?”

         Percival’s first reaction was to snarl at the other man and bully past Goldstein anyway. But he knew they were right, and he’d just be making it all worse by going off all wild. He deflated a little, leaning more heavily on the cane as some of the adrenaline left.

         “Where are the damn shoes?”

          It was less than fifteen minutes later when a massive silver patronus flittered through the cabin, coming to rest in front of Percival, who brightened considerably as Artemis’s voice issued from the beautiful creature. _“I was brought through to young Credence Barebone by a reverse portkey. I’ll explain further when you get here. I am taking him to the little muggle diner near Central Park. Ms. Goldstein should know which one I’m talking about. Please hurry, as I’m a bit lost. And don’t worry, Percy, I’m unharmed. Don’t do anything foolish.”_

          He let out a relieved breath and rubbed at his forehead as it dissipated into the ether. Then he finished penning the letter to his old friend, adding a few more clarifying lines before folding and sealing it. To occupy his time, he'd started writing the letter to Theseus, knowing that they needed the elder Scamander now more than ever. Although in the past, he'd never have put the other man in with the more rational mindsets, right now, it would be a relief to have his British counterpart on their team. Mercy knew that Theseus would at least help him keep Art out of trouble.

           “I can take that, Mr. Graves,” Queenie told him softly, reaching for it when he would have tucked it into his jacket pocket. “I know of a place that processes international mail. We can send it directly to Mr. Scamander’s office.”

           “Don’t lose it, Ms. Goldstein. We need help, and Theseus is the only one that has the connections and the knowledge that can make a difference. I know for a fact that he hasn’t been touched by that fanatic’s influence.” And he knew that Theseus would rather slit his own throat than do anything that might harm his baby sister.

          “All right, so you and Tinnie go meet up with Art and Credence, while me and Jacob go do this. We’ll find ya when it’s sent.”

*~*~*

          “I- I’m not the… I can’t be-,” Credence was looking at her as if she’d just told him the biggest lie imaginable. Eyes wide in an almost comical expression of both disbelief and horror, he sat across from Artemis in the back of the small muggle establishment. The moment they were seated and they had given their order, she’d cast a muffling charm and proceeded to upend the poor boy’s entire world-view. She was clutching her cup of steaming, heavily doctored coffee (they’d actually given her a raised eyebrow and a frown when she asked for tea), watching him carefully for any signs that he was going to run. Thankfully he seemed to be staying where he was. She would hate to have to use a sticking charm to keep his backside in the chair until she could explain further.

         “Credence, I know that this is a lot to take in,” Artemis said gently. “Has Mr. Graves explained to you exactly what he is looking for in this child? Has he mentioned anything about something called an obscurus or obscurial?”

         The boy shook his head and clutched at his cup of chocolate so tightly his knuckles were white. Artemis felt more of her heart break, seeing the raw marks that covered the backs of his hands, curling around to the palms. They were fresh and open, a couple of them still seeping a miniscule amount of blood. Looking around at the small crowd to make sure no one was paying too much attention to them, she reached out and cupped her hands around his on the cup. Pushing just a little, she smiled at the tingle of healing magic that flowed. It was a small thing, something she used on her creatures from time to time for the small wounds that popped up. It was one of those spells that used an individual’s own magic to heal their hurts, it just took someone who knew what they were doing to kick it off.

         A shudder went through him, and when she pulled back, he looked down at his hands in astonishment. She couldn’t heal the scars completely, not without dittany and a bit more time, but the wounds were all closed and no longer festering. It was as if she’d fast-forwarded through a couple weeks of proper wound care. His eyes were shining when he looked back up at her.

         “Why are you doing this? Why are you being so kind to me? I’m not this kid that Mr. Graves is looking for. I’m nothing special.”

         “Oh, but Credence, you are,” Artemis breathed, her face earnest as she leaned toward him. “Listen to me, and tell me if this sounds familiar. Obscurials are magical children that have repressed their magic due to harsh living conditions. Starvation, extreme neglect, and physical and emotional abuse. You don’t remember your birth parents, do you? The woman who is raising you is harsh and extreme, a magic hater. I’ve seen her spouting her hatred on the city steps. Strange things happen when you are upset. Lights flickering, a wind coming up inside the building. You’ve lost time. One minute you’re somewhere familiar, the next, you’re somewhere completely different and exhausted. You may feel as if you’ve been pulled apart and then put back together. Mr. Graves doesn’t know what you are; he’s probably called you a squib- someone who has magical blood, but no power.”

         Credence looked like he didn’t want to listen, but didn’t have any choice. She could see the indecision, the denial that was swiftly being overcome by realization. There was a mix of horror and hope on his face when he asked, “What do you want with me?”

         “I want to help you,” Artemis told him quietly. “I want to give you a chance at a better life, away from that hideous woman that mistreats you so. I’ve seen the final result of the obscurus, and I can’t bear to see it happen to you. Not if I can stop it.”

          She was reaching her hand out toward him, internally bracing herself for the contact. She hated touching and being touched- it made her skin crawl when it was someone she wasn't closely connected to. “Will you let me help you?”

          His fingertips were just touching hers when the door to the café opened and Percival came through, Tina hot on his heels. He was leaning heavily on the borrowed cane, and his skin was a pasty white. He looked a bit wild as his eyes found her, a fierce scowl on his face. Credence jerked away and stood up so fast that his chair nearly toppled. The teenager looked at her with such a look of betrayal that it shot straight to her gut.

          “Artemis Newton, I swear on Morgana’s mantle that I’m going to put a tracker on you that you’ll never slip out of,” Percival shot angrily when he got closer. He noted that Credence was about to bolt, and pointed a stern finger at him. “You, sit. I have no clue what she’s already told you, but I guarantee there’s more. We can’t make a scene here.”

          Credence’s training kicked in and he sat, watching with growing alarm as the man that looked amazingly like Mr. Graves, only a lot thinner and worse for wear, took Artemis by the arm and hauled her up out of her chair. He blinked as Mr. Graves crushed the tall woman to him, visibly shaking as he buried his face in her hair, growling, “Don’t disappear like that again.”

          Tina cast a notice me not charm and then enlarged the table, dragging over a couple more chairs. It was a bit excessive on the magic use in a no-maj place, but it wasn’t too occupied at this time of night, and most of the clientele were three-sheets to the wind anyway. Another quick charm, and the tired, bored waitress didn’t even blink as she came to take orders from the newcomers after the notice me not was removed.

          The oddly familiar dark-haired woman sat down next to him and smiled reassuringly, though her eyes remained worried. “Hello, Credence. You probably don’t remember me, but I’m Tina.”

 

*~*~*


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOVES! So much loves! <3 That said, this is just a tiny chapter to set up for Theseus. I wanted him to have his own chapter, but wasn't quite ready yet... so here we go. :) Very, very minor angst and Art starting to build her walls...

*~*~*

         “We have about an hour before we should attempt to meet Theseus back near Jacob’s cabin,” Percival said casually after everything had calmed down and they were finished eating. Between the three of them, they had informed Credence of the basics, with a promise to elaborate more when they were in a less exposed area. Muffling charms only went so far. He had seemed to take the tidbits of information rather well, Artemis thought. It might have something to do with Percival being the one delivering them, though, if she were honest. He was much more articulate than she was, and seeing clear evidence of the imposter claim was hard to deny. And Tina, being a somewhat familiar face that he associated with someone actually giving a damn about him, helped a bit too.

         Credence confessed that he didn’t entirely remember Tina, except for at odd moments and in little waves of feeling. His face had grown hot as he’d spoken in that soft, timid voice of his. No doubt expecting them to turn on him at any time. Artemis couldn’t help but be relieved that Tina was there, as she knew that she wasn’t good with personal interactions. She was more likely to scare the pants off him with her intense, strange, and sometimes random ways.

         She’d fallen quiet as the others spoke to the frightened boy, poking at the diner fare on her plate with one hand, while the other was firmly within Percy’s grasp. He wasn’t holding too tight, nor did it feel restricting. It wasn’t even odd, she mused, having someone sit so close. If it had been anyone else, it would have been an entirely different story. Percy needed the contact with her, to reassure himself that she wasn’t about to disappear again. She told herself that she was allowing it for his sake; he’d been through a lot of intense trauma. Of course, he would need a friendly, familiar anchor while everything else seemed to be flying about around them. There was a large part of her that was already mourning the inevitable loss of it.

         When they could get Credence back into her case, they would need to work with the young man on control. That would be the first order of business, she decided as the others answered the basic questions and conversation flowed quietly around the small table. Idly, she wondered where Queenie and Jacob were. The soft, decidedly feminine and motherly Queenie would be wonderful to help with breaking the cycle of cruelty Credence had endured thus far in his short life. Kindness wasn’t something he was used to, she thought. Even the slightest, most common of all comforts had been stripped from his life. She hoped that it wasn’t too late, and they could change his fate.

         “Art, did you hear me?” Percival gave her hand a little shake, and Artemis blinked at him with a little hum, broken out of her thoughts. Everyone was looking at her, and she flushed, realizing that she’d managed to get lost in her thoughts and that she’d probably been asked a question.

         “I’m sorry, I was off in the clouds,” she admitted, looking down at the tabletop. “C-could you repeat that?”

         “I said that we should be off to meet Theseus back at Jacob’s cabin once Queenie gets here. They stopped to send out a letter to him, and knowing your brother, he’ll likely be on his way immediately.”

         Artemis felt for a moment as if she were going to be sick. She thought she would have had more time to prepare for seeing her brother again, to come up with arguments to his undoubtedly frantic bids to send her off to safety. She wouldn’t be treated like a child and sent back to England while the ‘boys’ took care of things. She slipped her hand out of Percival’s and stood up abruptly.

        “I need to use the powder room,” she said stiffly and turned to go toward the restrooms in the back of the diner. Irritation flared when she heard Percival order Tina to go after her, though logically she knew that it was just a smart precaution. No one should be going off alone right now, but she wanted a moment to calm down. She lengthened her stride and reached the bathroom, going inside and slipping the lock into place, reinforcing it with another, stronger locking charm. It wasn’t a single toilet, and she knew that Tina knew that. She didn’t care if she bruised feelings. It was either lock herself in the restroom for a moment, or slip entirely out the back.

        The moment she was locked inside the furthest stall and seated on the sticky floor with her back against the wall and her knees drawn up to her chest, she rested her head against her knees when she heard the soft unlocking charm and the click of the lock being disengaged. Then another, stronger push of magic broke the minor ward she’d put up. How idiotic of her to think that a former auror would respect the obvious bid for privacy. She was getting more annoyed by the second, but kept herself still.

         “Listen, Art,” Tina started, after relocking the bathroom door behind her. Artemis clenched her jaw and barely stopped herself from snapping at the use of her nickname. The only thing that saved her was the fact that Tina didn’t sound patronizing, or pitying. There was understanding. One woman to another. The other woman stopped and took a breath and let it out again. “You know, I was going to say something about the men meaning well and only wanting to keep you safe, but that’s bullshit. Well, I’m sure they really don’t _mean_ to be condescending assholes about it, and they do want to keep you safe but… a spade is a spade.”

          Artemis snorted, unconsciously letting a smile slip out. “You wanna come out here and sit with me? There’s a mildly less disgusting lounge thing out here that looks a bit cleaner than the floor.”

         “Not really,” Artemis sighed, but got back to her feet anyway. The floor smelled a bit like vomit and heavy ammonia. The faded red velvet lounge sofa didn’t look much nicer, but after a quick cleaning with her wand, it was certainly a better choice. The women both sat down, each a little uncomfortable.

         “Look, I’ve never had to deal with a brother,” Tina started again, glancing over at Artemis’s flushed face, before looking back at the hideous burnt orange wallpaper on the wall opposite. “I’ve never had to deal with a dad either, for that matter. But just because they’re allowing women to be aurors doesn’t mean there’s not still a boy’s club. Getting into training wasn’t hard. I got excellent marks in everything required, and I was eager to do whatever I needed to get in and make it. Graves was one of my mentors after I made it through the first year, and I think that made all the difference. I knew of at least three other women who quit because of all the crap they took from the other cadets and some of the instructors.”

         Artemis was watching her now, looking at the pale silhouette as she shared her story. “Inside MACUSA, it’s a bit better. I loved being an auror, because it seemed like once you made it, you were a part of that club. After they did everything they could to make you quit and you didn’t, it kinda earns you a little respect, you know? Harassment is pretty low, because we have a woman president and Picquery is adamant that none of that shit is gonna happen on her watch. But I’m not a part of the club anymore, and because I was ‘removed from duty’, I lost a lot of the respect points.”

         She shook her head and glanced over at Artemis, a wry smile touching her lips. “So, my point is, that you’re not the only one that has to deal with the male ego. It happens to all of us. You should see some of the crap Queenie deals with. Talk about patronizing and crude. She takes care of herself though, and don’t let that airheaded front fool you, she’s sneaky and mean when she’s got her back up.”

        Artemis laughed, “I saw through that within the first ten minutes.” Then she sighed and leaned back against the wall tiredly. “Theseus is going to try and send me home. He’s been looking for a reason for years. He has this misguided idea that I should be coddled and protected. That I need to be in this little square box, all nice and safe and tidy. It frightens him that I don’t fit into that safe little container. I never have.”

        For the first time, she locked eyes with the former auror as she stated, “I’ll disappear if it seems he’s getting his way, Tina. I’ll go right off the map, and no one will find me. I have resources, and I can do well for myself, even if I’m no longer employed by MOM.”

        Tina knew she meant it, and it scared her a little. “Well, if you do disappear, take Graves with you, will ya? I don’t want to be on this side of the fallout if you don’t. The man is an utter lunatic when you’re out of his sight for too long.”

        Artemis blushed and pushed herself away from the wall, shaking her head as she got to her feet. “He’s dealing with a lot of trauma. Once that heals up, he won’t be as needy. I’m familiar and safe, so of course he’s going to be…”

        “You don’t get it, do you,” Tina asked in amazement, interrupting. Artemis paused over the sink as she was about to wash her hands, looking back at her, a bit confused. “Art, he’s head over heels for you. This isn’t just because he’s in a bad place right now, and it’s not going to change once he’s better.”

         Artemis shook her head with a frown, turning the water on with more force than necessary. “He’s not. I’m not… I- I’m not what he needs. He needs stable and… and stuff that I’m not. This will all pass, and I’ll be back on my travels, working on my book. He’ll be here where he belongs, with the society he needs and the responsibilities… There’s maybe a passing infatuation of an ideal. A girl from stories and a year behind enemy lines. The reality, _my_ reality, isn’t all romance and adventure. It’s a lot more intense and bloody and… and I don’t want to speak of it anymore.”

         Tina felt a little like she was watching someone on the edge of flying away, and felt powerless to stop it. She didn’t stop Artemis when she dried her hands and left the small restroom, presumably to go back to their table. She sighed and let her head drop to the side to rest against the wall. Why did things have to be so complicated? Mercy Lewis, she wasn't good at this friendship thing. There was a reason she didn't have many girlfriends.

*~*~* 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! :D Super short, but intense :D I wanted to get what I had out before I had to go to work. I really hope it doesn't disappoint. There will be another chapter tomorrow (promise, it's already half-written)! I love you all with the force of a dozen suns! And yay, Tina!

*~*~*

         The moment they were back at the cabin and Artemis found the space void of her brother, she went directly into her case and disappeared into the habitats without another word to anyone. She was on edge and not wanting to be around anyone, well-meaning or not. Percival tried to stop her, but was sidetracked by Tina, who reminded him that Theseus didn’t know anyone else and it would probably be best for him to be there to greet the incoming Scamander. She reminded him that Artemis was perfectly safe, and Queenie was in there with her, along with Credence, who had obediently followed the blonde witch inside despite his uncertain frown.

          Feeling a bit like she was ratting out her friend, she took a deep breath and told Percival, “She’s afraid that Theseus is going to send her back to England. That you guys don’t see her as capable of holding her own.”

          Percival gave a heavy sigh and finally took a seat in the open living area of the cabin. He leaned his forehead down into his open palm and shook his head. “Damnit. I should have talked to her before jumping ahead like that. I won’t let him railroad her into doing anything she doesn’t want to do. I thought she knew that.”

          “To be honest, sir, I don’t think Art puts much stock into how others see her,” Tina said, hesitating. Now, she really didn’t want to get into their personal feelings. That really _would_ be betraying a confidence. They were adults, and they could figure it out on their own. She did say, “Society as a whole isn’t welcoming to people that don’t conform to the ‘normal’. Maybe Art’s been given a reason to doubt.”

          Percival gave her a narrowed glance and opened his mouth to demand exactly what she meant, when there was a pounding on the front door of the cabin. They tensed and drew their wands, Percival maneuvering so that he was on his feet again, knuckles white on the cane as he tried to keep his balance, and Tina widening her stance.

         Keeping himself poised with the doorway in full sight, Percival gestured for Tina to go toward the door. He demanded, “Who is it?”

         “Open the bloody fucking door, Percy, it’s Theseus, you prat.” Theseus’s voice boomed through the heavy wood.

          “What did you name the new broomstick you got for your fourteenth birthday?”

          “Really? Of all the questions you could have-,” Theseus groaned, and Percival was already lowering his wand, a fond smile ticking at his lips. That note of embarrassment was enough. “Bonnie. I named my broom Bonnie.”

          Percival gestured for Tina to go ahead and let him in, and watched with amusement as his friend came through the door, a blush on his cheeks. That amusement faded when the tall, broad shouldered redhead stopped in his tracks and looked at him with shock going across his handsome face. “What have they done to you? Merlin, Percy, you look like you’ve been drug up out of the pits of hell. You didn’t elaborate that much on what’s going on, just enough to say you and Art needed help and that it was serious. Where is my sister? Is she hurt? What-?”

          “Slow down, ‘Seus,” Percival interrupted, “Art is fine. She’s in her case, and not a mark on her that wasn’t there before.”

          Theseus’s face clouded and he demanded, “What does that mean? Was she hurt before? Graves, you’re not making this any better. Where’s her bloody case?”

          Tina knew then exactly why Artemis had been dreading seeing her brother. “Mr. Scamander, your sister’s fine. She was the one that figured out that Mr. Graves had been replaced and then rescued him from the prison Grindlewald had kept him in. It was amazing, she-”    

          Theseus turned and glared at his old friend, “You didn’t say a bloody word about Grindlewald in your letter! And Artemis was mixed up in the middle of it all? Why didn’t she owl the moment it was obvious that you’d been replaced?”

_Maybe because she knew you’d react like this,_ Tina thought, her eyes narrowing as Artemis’s brother proceeded to get more and more irate. It seemed as if everything anyone said was just fuel to the fire. He was an imposing figure, his height a few inches over six feet, with a lean, muscled build that was an amplified echo of Artemis’s wiry strength. He moved like a fighter, like someone who had earned his spot as the Director of British Security, and his reputation for being a brutal hothead.

          Percival was standing a bit taller, despite the tension making his bones ache even more. “Theseus, stop. You’re being irrational and not giving Artemis enough credit. She’s a lot more capable than…”

          “Don’t tell me what-”

          “No,” Percival said sharply, “You need to calm down. The last thing we all need is for you to upset-”

          “You’re the one who called me in! And who are you to tell me how to react when my baby sister is in danger? She doesn’t belong out here in this mess, Percival! Look at you! I’m sure it was a lot worse when you were first drug up from whatever pit he had you in, and you look like a fucking prisoner of war!”

          “Your sister is the reason I’m not still in that pit,” Percival raised his voice to be heard over Theseus, until they were both near-shouting.

          There was a thud from the other room, and Artemis soon appeared in the doorway leading to the single bedroom of the cabin where she’d placed her suitcase. “Enough! Both of you,” she burst out, stomping her foot for emphasis. “Just shut up! I could feel both of you down inside my case. It’s upsetting Frank, and I won’t have it!”

          She pointed her finger at Percival, “You. Sit down before you fall. I didn’t spend a week on healing and potions just to have you injure yourself again fighting with my idiot brother.” She then turned a furiously pale face toward Theseus. “And you! You have no right to come in here and just automatically assume that I’ve landed myself into a spot that I can’t get back out of! I’m not a simpleton, nor a bloody incompetent child! Percival called you in because we need help, yes, but it’s not because I blundered something or caused massive chaos. I will _not_ be going home, and I will _not_ be patted on the head like the little woman who tries to be more than she’s not.”

         “Art-,” Theseus tried, his own face paling at the sight of her upset. He took a step toward her, his hand outstretched, “That’s not what… I-”

         “No,” she snapped, stepping back. “No. I waited to call you in because you have this infuriating view of me that I cannot bear any longer. I know you love me and that you just want to keep me safe. But I’m not a fragile piece of work that needs to go behind glass and only brought out for special occasions, Theseus! I broke that pedestal a long time ago, and I won’t go back to sitting pretty behind a desk just so you can rest easy.”

         Everyone stared at her in shock, mouths hanging open as she stood, breathing hard, eyes glistening with tears. She heaved in an unsteady breath and let it out slowly. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go regain my head before it bursts into a million pieces. Please, don’t follow me until you’ve stopped thinking in terms of how you may either talk me out of this ‘nonsense’ or force me into going home to the nice little desk job and cozy cottage with no nasty surprises. I won’t go, and I’m absolutely serious when I say I will hold nothing back to fight you on it this time, Theseus. I love you, but I’m done being nice.”

        With that, she turned on her heel and went back inside the bedroom, slamming the door behind her for good measure. Tina was caught between admiration and utter shock. The looks on the men’s faces were priceless, as Theseus looked as if he’d just been sucker punched, and Percival was looking thoughtful and more than a little smitten.

        “Well, that went well, huh?” Jacob chose that time to speak up, coming in from where he’d been putting together a coffee and tea tray for the night. Everyone looked at him, and he flushed, shrugging before busying himself with setting the tray on the coffee table. “And I’m shutting up now.”

        Percival shook his head and glared over at his friend. “You’re an asshole, ‘Seus. A complete and utter ass.”

        Theseus rounded on him again, jabbing a finger in his general direction. “Don’t even get me started on what I think of you right now, Graves. Somehow you’ve done something to my sister to make her-”

        “Are you kidding me right now,” Percival interrupted, incredulous. “Can you hear the words coming out of your mouth?”

        “Art doesn’t just jump in like that and make threats. It’s not her style. Her style is more sneaking out in the middle of the night and going off to do Merlin-knows-what. Did you know that she was nearly gutted less than six months into her travels? _Gutted_ , Percy! I didn’t even hear about it until the bloody med report came in. She wasn’t even supposed to be in any danger, and she still managed to get tangled up with some poachers outside of Madrid. Did she tell you about Prague? They had to re-grow part of a fucking lung and a kidney after that one. A vital organ, man! Along with part of a ribcage! You can’t tell me not to worry when I think my baby sister has been in more life-threatening situations than both of us combined, during the war and as aurors. I have night terrors about what she’s gotten by without telling anyone.”

        “You can’t just sideline her, ‘Seus,” Percival told him after it looked like he’d run out of steam. The taller man shook his head and scraped his fingers back through his hair wearily. “I get it, I do. It scares the hell out of me too. Just the thought of her being in that man’s clutches makes my blood run cold. I have intimate, fresh knowledge of exactly what he’s capable of. But I can’t think of anyone else more qualified to have at our backs than Artemis. Besides, at this point, I don’t think even sending her home would stop him from coming after her. He knows that she’s the one that rescued me. Once that tracking spell locked on, he got a taste of her magical signature. On top of that, if he was able to infiltrate MACUSA, who’s to say he hasn’t done the same to MOM? Do you want her back home without someone to watch her back?”

         “She doesn’t have to go back to work right away,” Theseus muttered stubbornly, but it looked like he was at least starting to listen. “She can hole up in my flat for a bit while we get this lunatic squared away. Once everything’s safe again, she can choose whatever-”   

         “You can’t just make those decisions for her,” Tina burst in, unable to keep listening to him. “Let me ask you, sir, how many men did she take out during the raid outside of Madrid? What was the number on the records?”

         “Five,” Theseus stated, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to follow where she was going.

         “Five. I’m sure they were all well armed with wands and a vast knowledge of some nasty dark magic to draw upon, along with a lifestyle that kept them on their toes. How many people did she have as backup?” Tina crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the armrest of the sofa Percival was sitting on.

         “A local guide that served as a translator. Apparently, it hadn’t been a planned raid. She’d heard rumors about runespoor trophy hunters and went on a reconnaissance mission that was bungled when the bloody tit of a guide tripped over his own feet and crashed into their camp. Art had to break her cover to fish him out and save his life.”

         “So, the sister that needs to be put away for safe keeping took out five armed men in a professional, illegal hunting camp while looking out for an idiot that didn’t even know how to be quiet? Did she kill them all, or were they just subdued and turned over to authorities?” Tina raised an eyebrow at him.

          “Subdued.” Understanding was starting to dawn on Theseus’s face now, and his eyes were growing sad and a bit guilty. “She didn’t kill them, just knocked their wits about and tied them all to a giant tree to wait for the locals.”

          “And I’m sure it was the same in Prague, wasn’t it?”

          “It was twelve in Prague,” Theseus admitted. “She had two others with her, and it was a much better planned out operation. From the reports, they had everything under control and nearly contained when a bastard shot her with a deflected _reducto_ with enough force to send her down an embankment and into a cavern. It shattered her goddamned ribcage, and sent shards of bone into her kidney and lung. It was only by some miracle that she was found in time and immediately taken to a good hospital where they saved her life. I had to watch as they regrew two of her internal organs and half of her fucking bone structure. She was on a stasis charm for three days before they could let her even breathe on her own. I almost fucking lost her.” He was getting upset again and started to pace, his hands gesturing wildly. Maybe bringing up Prague wasn’t such a brilliant tactic after all.

          Percival had paled a little at this bit of information. “You didn’t tell me about this in your letters.”

          Theseus turned to him, shoulders falling, “It was still too fresh, too painful. I still have nightmares about being too late. She was bleeding out from the inside, Percy. And you are telling me to calm down and stop being a prat? I can pull the memory right now if you think I’m overreacting. Looking at you, right now, I can tell you I’m not willing to let her fall into that man’s hands.”

          “You don’t have a choice,” Tina told him firmly. She understood what he was saying, hell, if she and Queenie had been in their positions, she’d feel the same way. She stood straight and looked him dead in the eyes. “She’s an adult, and she’s proven herself to be brilliant in the field. You said it yourself, these are only the situations you’ve heard of. What about all the times she _didn’t_ get hurt? What about all of the successes and the lives Art’s saved, people and creatures alike. You’re afraid you might lose her to a dark wizard, but you’re _going_ _to lose her anyway_ if you don’t ease up and accept that you can’t keep her locked away like a doll!”

          Theseus was obviously trying to get angry about what she was saying, trying to find a way around it and to not listen. But he was a logical man, most of the time, and what she was saying hit all the right notes. His sister’s angry words came back to him as he turned to stare at the front door, his back to the others while he processed this new thought pattern. _“I waited to call you in because you have this infuriating view of me that I cannot bear any longer.”_

          “I think I need to go talk to her,” he sighed. He had some apologizing to do, and hopefully they could talk some of it out. Repair some of the damage. Neither of them were good at communicating what they were really thinking and feeling. Theseus was good at giving orders and bullying his way past any sort of rebellion. And Artemis was used to no one listening to her, so she didn’t speak up. Instead, she just quietly went about things her own way without arguing. It wasn’t necessarily the best combination.

*~*~*

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long to get out!! I went to a steampunk convention this last weekend and got completely sidetracked by all the shiny. But here's the promised chapter, a bit late, but it's better now than never. ;) Thank you guys sooooooo much for the support on this fic! I seriously adore the hell out of all of you. It's another sorta short one, but I wanted to get it out without much more delay. :D

*~*~*

        Theseus found his sister inside the nundu habitat, sitting with her back to the single scraggly tree that cast an impossibly wide shade for something so bare. The massive, disease causing feline was nearly in her lap, curled up like a two hundred pound kitten, receiving a thorough brushing with what looked like a special spiked brush. He could feel the pulse of the purrs from where he hovered uncertainly just inside the entrance. There was a wide, fond smile on her face, and he felt a pang in his chest when he realized that he couldn’t really pinpoint the last time he’d seen it.

       The beast butted its huge head up against Art’s chest, purring even louder when the young woman laughed and rubbed behind its odd ears. Leave it to his sibling to treat a beast with the means to not only deliver a plague of sickness to an entire city block if it felt threatened, but quite possibly outweighed her by a good sixty pounds and had the capability to take her arm off with one snap of those horridly sharp jaws, like she would a bloody housecat.

       Thus were the infuriating and beautiful elements that made up his baby sister. He stood there and watched for a long time, a smile ghosting across his face as he saw her interact. This was the side of her that he hadn’t taken the time to really see before. He’d always seen the danger first, the very real threat of potential bloodshed and violence. He hadn’t stopped to see the equally real affection these beasts had for their caregiver. Theseus tensed as the nundu scented Art, rubbing its face along her slender jawline. There was no cloud of noxious toxin, no coughing and bloody hemorrhaging. Just a delighted, decidedly unladylike shout of laughter as Artemis was knocked over and pinned by the giant cat’s body.

       “Off with you, now, love,” Artemis told it then, her voice carrying a warmth that, like her soft smile, Theseus realized he missed. Their interactions the last few times they had seen each other hadn’t necessarily been of the happy, squishy variety. They had been angry and closed off from each other, and he felt like a massive heel for being so stubborn. When the nundu had loped off toward her cave, Theseus still hesitated to approach, for the first time in a long while unsure of how to proceed.

       “I’m not angry with you anymore, Theseus,” Artemis called out, and he saw that she was still sitting against the scraggly tree, having drawn her long legs up to her chest. He recognized it as the posture she adopted when she was out of sorts and wanting to disappear. He had a flash of her as a little girl, curled up in the window seat of his bedroom. He’d been outside with Percy or one of his other friends that seemed to flock to their property growing up, and hadn’t seen her all day. He hadn’t seen her there at first, riding the adrenaline high of a forbidden race through the hippogriff fields.

       She hadn’t moved, even when he’d tossed his sweaty shirt at her and demanded, “Art! What in blazes are you doing in here? Don’t you have some bugs or mice to catch?”

       When she’d lifted her face, he’d stopped and immediately came to sit down next to her. “What happened?”

       She had shaken her head, but burst into tears and launched herself at him. No amount of pleading or demanding had gotten any information out of her on what had upset her so badly. So after a few minutes, he just cradled her and let her cry. He would like to say that it didn’t happen again, that it was an isolated occurrence, but it wasn’t. As she grew and things got more difficult, it seemed as if he was the one she went to when it all became too much and she cracked. But she never told him what was happening, who was upsetting her. He knew that their father was a bit abrupt with her, and that their mother seemed to be overbearing on pushing the more feminine pursuits at her, but that’s how most parents were, right? He was out of the house and seeking his own fortune after a bit, and they didn’t see each other that often. Holidays were still held at home, but they were filled with people and merriment. He rarely had time to just sit with her one on one.

       Then there was the war, and he had been so furious that she’d managed to sneak past _all_ the safeguards put into place to keep women and children out of the thick of it. Seeing her there, with dirt and ash all over her, all decked out in ripped dragonhide and sporting fresh burns on her hands, had sent him completely over the edge. He had been on his second tour by that point, and had been just fine thinking that his baby sister was safely ensconced in the herbology internship that turned out to be total bunk. He’d seen men- little more than boys- ripped to shreds in front of him by enemy fire, _he_ _had killed_ boys barely older than her. The thought that his Art was not only in very real danger from the beasts she sought to control for their fucked up war, but from men like him and Percival, had nearly done him in.

       Percival had stepped in, reassuring and solid as the man had always been. He would look out for her. He would keep her safe and bring her home. Still furious, still seconds away from calling foul and sending her bony arse back to their parents, he’d caved and left her there with his best friend and a promise that she wouldn’t do anything stupid.

       When word had gotten back that Percival had been transferred, he’d wanted to pull her right then. Things were truly heating up on his end of the battlefield and he hadn’t been able to go through the proper channels, and as much as he wanted her out of there, he’d been very aware of how delicate he needed to be to save both her reputation and possibly her very freedom. By the time he’d been released to do what needed to be done, it was too late and she’d been sent home after the disastrous flight that ended in tragedy.

        Finishing up with his wartime duties and then starting his career with the ministry had kept him busy and away from home again, but he did make a point to keep tabs on her. He thought she was adjusting well to civilian life, convincing himself that wartime had mellowed that adventurous streak. Being severely injured and set into a secure, well-paid, if mundane job should have been enough to keep her grounded. He kicked himself now for not looking too deeply into the miserable set of her shoulders when he’d passed her in the ministry hallways, or the half-hearted smiles she passed him across their parents’ table at Sunday dinner. She was in the works to get her own flat in London, despite their mother’s protests, when it all came to a head.

        He knew Art’s relationship with their parents had never been what you could call loving, but it wasn’t until they were both adults and he’d witnessed their father’s last blowup when Artemis had announced her promotion and book deal that he realized exactly how bad it was. She had been so excited, the high color in her cheeks and the grin on her face making him match her happiness. When she’d outlined her travel plans, he’d thought of the possible dangers, but put it to the back of his mind to talk with her about later.

        Their father had exploded, starting out with a cuttingly cold series of questions that he didn’t wait to hear her stammered answers for. As she became more flustered, he’d gotten angrier, and his voice had gotten louder. The barrage had gone into verbal abuse quickly, and by the time Theseus had finally regained his senses enough to step up and try to put a stop to it, it had trickled down to her disownment.

        He’d stood frozen as Artemis had blinked at their father, her own anger making an appearance. She’d straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, picked up her battered suitcase that their mother was always picking at, turned on her heel and left without another word. He hadn’t gone after her, too stunned to move just yet. When his father had causally turned to the liquor cabinet and offered him a whisky, he hadn’t trusted his own temper enough to engage. Instead, he’d left too, trying to think of where Artemis would have been headed.

        As he sat down next to her now, he put an arm around her trembling shoulders and waited until she relaxed into him. “I’m sorry, Art,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I’m sorry for all of it.”

        She shook her head, but uncurled from her ball, wrapping one of her arms around his back. “I’m _not_ ,” she said on a sigh. “Though I do wish I would have said it earlier.”

       “Fair enough,” he chuckled. He kissed her hair and echoed her sigh. “I don’t think you’re incompetent, or that you blunder into things. I don’t think you muck things up, or cause the disasters. You just seem to have the knack for finding them. I’m afraid for you. Mum and Da didn’t… they weren’t…”

       “They hated me, ‘Seus, it’s all right to say it,” Artemis said softly. There wasn’t any recrimination or bitterness in her voice, she was just stating a fact as she saw it. “I wasn’t what they wanted for a daughter, that’s all.”

        He felt his heart squeeze, and he wanted to come back with the patterned, ‘no, they didn’t, silly’, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t the time for platitudes. He said instead, “They weren’t supportive, and it made you sneaky.”

        She stiffened and would have pulled away, but he tightened his arm just enough to keep her in place. “Let me finish my thought before you get all huffy, yeah?”

        When she nodded, he continued, “I’m not saying it was a bad thing. I’m saying that it shaped how you deal with things. I was off doing my own adventures, head in the clouds. By the time I realized things weren’t what they should be, the damage was done and you were just as wild as the creatures you rescue. I went a bit overboard on trying to keep you safe, and you’d gone so bloody secretive that I couldn’t properly help.”

        “I went secretive for a reason, ‘Seus,” Artemis interrupted, tension leaking back into her. “Yeah, I might’ve been a bit more open, but when you’re called a nutter and threatened with being hobbled to an office, it kind of makes it a bit difficult.”

        “I’m not arguing,” Theseus told her. “I agree with everything you’ve said. At first I didn’t, and I can’t promise that I’ll completely stop trying to shelter you. But I… I’m so damned sorry that I was one of the people that made you feel like you were less, that made you feel like you needed to hide what you were trying to accomplish. I’m sorry that I made it impossible for you to come to me like you should.”

         His voice was thick with tears by the time he was done speaking, and Artemis was torn between still being angry, feeling vindicated that he was finally getting it, and feeling sorry that this was hurting him. Not being good with words, she did the only thing that she knew could convey the best interpretation of what she was feeling. She turned and wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his shoulder, and just held on.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are beautiful. Seriously amazing, and thank you for the epic support you've sent my way for this fic! This chapter is FLUFFY, filled with lots and lots of Percy and Art being so nauseatingly adorable. And, I must add, there's gonna be sexing. Earning the 'E' rating on this one. ;) And I can't say I'm sorry, at all. Cheers!

 

*~*~*

        Later, when everything they knew so far had been laid out on the table, so to speak, and everyone had settled in for the night, Percival snuck out of the expanded room Artemis had set up to house the men. Credence was lying still on the top bunk of the beds they had transfigured, eerily quiet amid the soft nighttime sounds. Theseus had taken the bottom bunk, sprawled out across the small mattress in such a way as he always did, one bare foot sticking out over the side. Jacob was on his own cot, curled up on his side with a tiny smile on his face. Tina and Queenie were sleeping upstairs in the proper bedroom, and Artemis had mumbled something about a hammock near Dougal’s nest and the occamy chicks. Tomorrow was to be filled with planning and hopefully putting those plans into place and getting this whole mess sorted.

        He hadn’t been able to settle in to sleep, despite the security of having his oldest friend snoring softly in the corner. His healing body ached with exhaustion, feeling it in his very bones as he lay back on the bed he had shared with Artemis for the last week as he’d slept and recovered. He found he missed her closeness, and the longer he tried to stay still and silent in bed, the more he needed to see her. It was disturbing how it felt as if his skin was crawling if he didn’t know where she was, if he couldn’t hear her voice, see, or touch her.

         He tried to rationalize it, telling himself that it wasn’t creepy at all for him to be obsessively seeking her out. It was normal for someone to be attached to their rescuer, especially after an ordeal like the one he’d been through. The further he went into the enclosures, eyes scanning the sleeping creatures, the more he realized how _irrational_ this entire thing was, and the doubts filed in one by one. By the time he made it to the small corner where Dougal, Horace, the occamy chicks, and the bowtruckles all kept their nests, he felt like a complete idiot and more than a little bit like a creep. That low-level anxiety that had been slowly building spiked, then eased back down when he saw her in her hammock.

        She was lying on her back with various creatures stretched out around and on top of her. A tiny occamy was curled up in the crook of her neck, the colorful hatchling glimmering in the dim light. The brilliant green of Art’s usual bowtruckle companion was nestled in her hair, a ringlet curving around his tiny frame like a golden red blanket. Horace blinked beady eyes up at him from where he was resting just on the back edge of her knee, a shiny silver teaspoon clutched in his paws and under his chin like a pillow. Dougal was missing, or so Percival thought until he felt a warm, furry hand slip into his and he looked down to see the sleepy, sweet face peering solemnly up at him.

       Giving his hand a tug, the demiguise urged him closer. When he was close enough to see the distressed crease of her brow and the way her lips parted on an unconscious gasp, he pondered the best way to wake her up without upending the entire scene and upsetting them all. She answered it for him, startling awake with a short cry and a practiced grace that spoke of many such awakenings. Percival felt a rush of pure affection for her, even in the midst of a nightmare, she was ever aware of the well-being of her creatures.

       He came closer and her eyes went to him, cloudy with sleep, but not unhappy to see him. “P-Percy? What are you doing out here? Is… is everything all right?”

       He cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed now. “I’m sorry,” he said softly with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t sleep and I… and I-”

       Artemis sighed, and shifted around carefully, crooning softly to the occamy, who made a soft, disgruntled chirp when she was moved. Horace gave Percival the evil eye as he took his tiny spoon and went to nest in the miniature hammock Art must have conjured for him at some point. It was fastened into the branches of the tree she rested under, near her head just in case the furry menace needed the reassurance of having her nearby. Pickett snuffled and was drug along in her hair as she scooted over to make room. A wave of her hand expanded the hammock and stabilized it, then she was inviting him in with her.

       “Come along,” she said, almost impatiently when he hesitated. This hadn’t exactly been what he’d been looking for when he’d come searching for her. He had just wanted to see her and reassure himself that she hadn’t disappeared. He felt as if his entire world had been set spinning off its axis, and his chest felt so tight all of a sudden, it was hard to breathe for a second. She seemed to misinterpret his hesitation, her brow creasing again, and her cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry, Percy. If you don’t want to lie next to me, it’s all-”

       “No,” he protested a little too loudly, and she startled. He softened his voice, and was embarrassed when it wasn’t quite steady. “I- Please. I’m sorry.”

       Her face smoothed in understanding, and that warm smile he always ached to see touched her lips. “Come here, Percy. We’ve room, and I promise I won’t let you get eaten while you sleep.”

        When he settled in next to her and pulled her warm, pliant body back against him, he felt something sharp and hurting ease inside. Pickett clicked at him once in irritation before transferring from Artemis’s mop of curls over into Percival’s as to avoid getting breathed on by the interloper. Summoning the blanket from the bottom of the hammock space, Percival pulled it up over the two of them and tucked it around, finally breathing easy for the first time in hours.

        There were words on the tip of his tongue, crazy and irresponsible words that ached to be said, but as she slowly melted back into sleep and he felt the softness of her cheek against his arm and the liquid strength of her spine pressed against his chest, he swallowed them back and contented himself with just this for now.

*~*~*

        He had a problem. A very pleasant problem, considering all of the possibilities out there, Percival mused, but it was still a very real and immediate concern. Waking up wrapped up around a warm, sweet smelling, sleepy body that you’d been aching to have for years, wasn’t a hardship by any means. However, he wasn’t quite so sure that Artemis would be impressed with exactly how _happy_ a certain part of his anatomy was to be pressed up against her backside so early in their morning. Not at this stage in their courtship, anyway.

        Make no mistake, he wasn’t going to let her go again. Not now that he was on the cusp of finally winning her over. The time for games was over, and he couldn’t fathom continuing his life without her. Not after the nightmare he’d been though in the last few weeks and the reality that everything could be taken away at barely a moment’s notice. He wasn’t going to waste any more time. That was all fine and dandy, he thought. But that did nothing to cool the arousal that pooled in his loins and spread to all points as she stirred and started waking. She stretched, cautiously as to not dislodge any creature that may have crept into her bedding. Slowly, he felt the soft flesh of her shapely ass rub back into the hard ridge trapped under layers of clothing.

        His face burned even as he pressed his hand against her hip to stop her movements, fingers spanning the flat expanse of her waist. She inhaled sharply and he had to bite back a groan when she made another small movement. “Art,” he murmured against her temple, then lost all words when she shuddered and purposefully nudged her hips back and up. So maybe it wasn’t as big of a problem as he’d feared.

        His fingers found their way under the hem of the nightshirt she’d worn to bed, and when his fingers encountered warm, smooth skin, he felt her breath hitch and it emboldened him to explore further. Pressing his lips to the skin beside her eye, then her cheek and earlobe, he moved against her tenderly, cautiously gaining a little friction. As his questing fingers glided slowly over her ribcage and encountered the gentle slope of her breast, he barely breathed, waiting for her to stop him. When she wrapped her own long, elegant fingers around his wrist, he was fully expecting her to pull him away, to place his hand somewhere a bit more innocent. He bit back a groan when she guided it up and over so that he was cupping over the tight nub of her nipple.

        She was absolutely perfect, filling the palm of his hand, with just a tiny bit left over. When he ran fingertips over the sensitive flesh and lightly pinched it, she jolted and ground back against his erection with a whimpering mewl that went straight to his core. Of all the lovers he’d had in his lifetime, he couldn’t remember a single moment were he’d been so turned on by the simple, almost innocent movements. There wasn’t a coy bone in her body; every movement, every reaction genuine and brought out of sheer desire. When she cautiously turned in his arms to face him, he pressed her back into the gently swaying material of the hammock under them and took her mouth.

        Artemis buried her fingers in his hair and gripped him as she seemed to melt and open so beautifully for him, even as his hand strayed down to the simple cotton of her panties and played hesitantly over the waistband. She whimpered into his mouth and her thigh moved between his legs to press against his hardness, making him grind down almost unconsciously.

        “Please,” she whispered, pulling away to look at him with hazy golden green eyes. “Percy, please, touch me.”

        Her mouth trembled open against his and she made another half-mewling, half-gasping sound when he did what she asked, gliding his fingers into her undergarment and into that hot, secret place. She was tight and grasping around him, and he clenched his teeth as she dug fingernails into his bicep, holding on as he pressed two fingers deep. “Oh _gods_ ,” she breathed. “Percy, I can’t…”

        He moved his thumb over that bundle of nerves, and she stiffened under him, biting her lip as she fell apart. A few more thrusts against her thigh and he was following her with a barely audible groan, burying his face in her hair. She whimpered when he withdrew and clutched her hip, jerking just a little. She moved her face toward his and he kissed her again, softly and tenderly.

        Those words were on his tongue again. Those dangerous, wonderful words that he didn’t quite know how to say. He stared down at her, thumb playing across her cheekbone as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. She was finally in his grasp. That impossibly wild, beautiful woman that had seemed to always be just out of reach. Always just a touch ahead. She had always been at the back of his mind, brought to life by her brother’s letters and the few times he’d seen her in the flesh. It was a marvel that she was there with him, allowing him to touch her, to taste.

         _"I'm a bit of a flight risk, you know.”_ Her own words came back to him and he kissed her lips again to stop those insidious words from falling. He needed to make sure the time was absolutely right. The last thing he wanted was to spook her and send her scuttling away.

        They lay there for a while longer, just resting and trying to bring their blood back to normal. It occurred to him that Theseus was actually in the case with them, and that the ginger auror wasn’t going to be incredibly happy to see Percival in his baby sister’s bed.

        “If I had my druthers, I’d prefer to stay right where I’m at for hours,” he mumbled lowly against her temple, smiling when she shivered against him at the sound. “But your brother might not be so forgiving if he found me here. We just managed to make him see reason, don’t want to sabotage our efforts by having him kill me this morning.”

        Artemis laughed, and the sound of it made it so much more difficult to move away from her. “I don’t reckon he’d kill you outright, darling. He’d certainly hex you into next Sunday, though, and I’d prefer not to have to take his eyebrows off in retaliation.” She stretched against him, one arm going over her head as she tightened the muscles of her spine. It was his turn to shiver, and his grip on her hip tightened. If only they had more time and her damn brother wasn’t so close. He made a small noise as her leg slid against his already hardening groin.

        “I think we need to get up before I do something incredibly foolish,” he said breathlessly. “If finding me in here with you would be bad, I can only imagine how bad the fallout would be if he found us in an even more compromising position.”

        “I’ve been annoyed as all get out with my brother before,” Artemis huffed, eyes narrowed as she ran her hand under the cotton shirt he’d worn to bed. His own eyes darkened as those light fingertips gently explored his back and lower spine. “But I think this is the first time I have ever wished him to the wilds of Peru. At least for this particular reason. There have been times where he’s pushed my patience. But I-”

        Percival cut off her words before they could become a ramble, pressing his lips to hers before running his tongue over the flush seam of her mouth. That little sound came again, and he was nearly lost all over again. There was a clatter of sound from the direction of her shack, and he pulled back with a deep sigh.

        “There will be a time, very soon, sugar, that I will have you for as long as we like,” he promised wickedly and pecked her lips one last time. She drug in a deep, shuddering breath and waved her hand to wandlessly stabilize the hammock so they could get out of it without dumping them into the dirt.

        “I’ll be holding you to that,” she grumbled, but she was smiling as he took her hands to pull her out of the hammock nest. She rolled her eyes when she heard Theseus laugh in response to Queenie’s light tones. It was time to start their day.

        “Believe me, I’m not gonna forget anytime soon.”

*~*~*

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this and responding so gorgeously! :D In this chapter I jumped right into the action, skipping over some of the day to day set up in the interest of moving the story along. Again, if you guys are interested, I'll go back later and post some smaller one-shots of missing scenes to make up for it. I really hope I don't disappoint!

 

*~*~*

 

       Cold black eyes stared across the interrogation table at her, and Artemis tried to hold back the icy shard of terror that threatened to take over her wits. She knew exactly how she’d come to this spot, and she couldn’t help but resent her own stupidity in not seeing the pattern of escalation. Tina was behind her, and she had to concentrate on blocking out the tangible hysteria that was about to overtake her friend. She didn’t doubt for a moment that the other woman could handle herself against most opponents, but potentially life-threatening situations weren’t normally caused by your own foolish actions. Though, to be fair, Artemis was the one that had orchestrated the bloody thing and drug Tina with her over some spectacular protests. That’s what she got for not going it alone.

      “Tell me, Ms. Scamander,” the man wearing Percival’s face started, the cool rumble of his voice sending a shiver down her spine at the near identical cadence. “Where is Credence Barebone and our dear Percy?”

       She stiffened and her fingers twisted in her lap where her hands were bound with magic-quelling cuffs. He wasn’t even pretending. The aurors behind her didn’t react, and she didn’t turn to look. Imperius curse, or some other form of mind control then. Or they were sympathizers planted into the ranks. She hoped for the former, as she didn’t want to think of the type of people that could work together with someone for so long and still be capable of such cold betrayal.

       “What are you doing,” Tina cried out behind her, and Artemis was tempted to look over her shoulder, but she kept her eyes on the man in front of her. “Melanie? I know you can hear what he’s saying! That isn’t Director Graves!”

      “Of course it is, Goldstein,” a melodic, almost dreamy voice answered. “I know you’ve been having a rough time of it. We can get you some help."

      “Did you hear what he just asked,” Tina desperately tried again. “He’s trying to find the real Percival Graves, because he disappeared from the prison he was being held in!”

       “Just calm yourself, dear,” the newly identified Melanie nearly cooed and Artemis felt sick. Her eyes focused on Grindlewald’s smirk, an expression that looked completely foreign on the beloved, familiar features. “It will all be okay. You’ll see.”

       “Yeah, Goldstein. It will be just peachy, as long as you tell me where to find my errant boys. They’re rather important, you see.”

       Artemis kept her silence, staring mutinously at the collar of his starched, white shirt. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw the smirk deepen, showing the dimples that most never saw because her Percy never let go enough to really smile that big. She’d seen it just that morning, when they had stood over the occamy nest and watched the final egg hatch. His hand had rested on her back, fingertips gently rubbing back and forth, bringing her awareness shooting to the man instead of the miracle happening in front of them. When she’d chanced a sly look at his face, his own eyes had been fixed on the newborn. That sweet, unconscious smile had done wonderful, horrible things to her emotions

       He and Theseus were off speaking to a potential ally, a connection deep within MACUSA, someone that had even more influence than Picquery herself. It was a man that they both agreed was above reproach and was more than a mere figurehead to show the population. Not that they were discounting their president, but after digging deeper into the comings and goings of the inner office, they couldn’t be sure of anyone’s untainted loyalty. Queenie and Jacob had stayed behind at the cabin with Artemis’s creatures and Credence, and she couldn’t help but be relieved that they at least were safe. Or as safe as they could be with a maniac looking to find them.

       Credence had taken surprisingly well to the new world he’d been plunged into. Artemis had a feeling that the boy was still a bit in shock over the whole thing. She knew that the enormity of it all hadn’t truly sunk in yet, and she dearly hoped that she was there to help him when it all crashed in. The cautious way he moved and spoke broke her heart, reminding her of all her rescues who had become accustomed to anticipating painful punishments. He tried so hard not to flinch when someone moved too fast or raised their voices… with her dear brother, it was a given that there would be plenty of opportunity. Once Theseus realized, he’d tried to tone it down, at least when he knew that Credence was nearby.

       Artemis knew that she would never allow this madman to get his claws into the boy. Not again. Never again. Once this was all over and done, she was also planning a visit to one Mary Lou Barebone and the _church_ that condoned such cruelty. She felt her jaw getting tight as anger sparked at the thought of the marks on the teenager’s body. He hadn’t been able to hold back the near violent flinch away from her when she’d gently asked to tend to his wounds, the ones that were hidden by layers of threadbare black cloth.

       She had approached him while the others were busy with tasks elsewhere, knowing that he would be embarrassed and shy. Once again trying to make herself as small and harmless as possible, Artemis had spoken gently, asking for permission and being patient while he struggled to overcome the knee-jerk reaction to run. In the end, it had paid off and he had nodded shortly, his deathly pale face flushing.

       Trying to make it as impersonal as possible while still being supportive and caring, she had gathered the supplies and guided him into the bathing room. After instructing him to go ahead and shower, she had transfigured a bath towel into something resembling a blanket, and had him sit on a stool near the sink. From there, she had rambled on continuously about her travels and the creatures she had in her case. She told him all about Pickett and his utterly barmy view of her as his home tree. She pointed out that Horace was actually the tamer of his species, mischievous little tart that he was.

       As her words wove a spell of their own, he had relaxed more and more into the healing magic. She had bit back on the building sick rage as she tended to layer after layer of scar tissue on his back, arms, and legs. Even doing as much as she could, not all of it could be erased. When Artemis had told him that softly, he’d quite frankly broken her heart when he’d solemnly told her that it was all right. He looked at her own arms, which were exposed due to her sleeves being rolled up. He had repeated something that she’d overheard Queenie telling him just a day or so ago, “Ms. Scamander, it’s okay to keep them. Ms. Queenie says it’s a sign that we’ve survived.”

       No, she thought firmly. That boy had been through enough. As long as she was kicking, no one would be taking him anywhere. And neither would they be taking her Percy.

       “You know that I have ways of getting inside that thick head of yours,” Grindlewald told her, casually leaning back in his chair, fingers toying with the handle of her confiscated wand. “Most unpleasant ways. It doesn’t have to go that far, you know, though I have to say, I’m not that opposed to the concept.”

       There was a slipping in his accent, she noted. As he got more comfortable and sure of himself, the slightly clipped German tones were overtaking the impression of Director Graves’s decidedly New York flow. She kept her silence.

       “Auror Davis, Auror Clement, escort Ms. Goldstein to the execution chamber. I’ll deal with Ms. Scamander myself.”

       At the explosion of fear and rage from Tina, Artemis finally turned to look at her. "Tina!” The word was sharp, bringing panicked brown eyes to hers. She pointedly looked at the breast pocket of the other woman’s jacket. She saw Tina’s expression blank for a split second and she knew the message got across. She started spouting whatever trite nonsense they were expecting her to say, playing into the role assigned to her. “Tina, listen, be brave. It’s going to be okay, they’ll come for us.”

       “Those are the words I want to hear,” Grindelwald sounded amused and more than a little smug.

       Artemis fixed him with a heated glare. “I wouldn’t be so eager if I were you.”

       He laughed, leaning back in his chair again, casually linking his fingers together over his stomach. He lifted his chin toward the aurors and they hauled a still violently protesting Tina out the door. He waited until the door closed with a firm thud, and fixed her with a steady stare, tapping his chin with his index finger, resting elbows on his desk. Artemis firmed her mouth and stared pointedly at the edge of his desk, refusing to look directly at him, or the floor. Somewhere right in the middle was just fine with her. If Tina did what she was supposed to do, all she had to do was stall and make it through the next hour.

       “This is going to be fun, Ms. Scamander.” He started talking again and her fingers tightened into fists in her lap. Condescending and deceptively gentle, he continued. “Did your brother ever tell you about our encounter in Brussels? He was a young thing then, your age, I suppose. You carry his eyes, you know. Stupidly brave, the both of you. Stubborn and filled with self-righteous ideals. It’s a pity that you’re fighting for the wrong side. He thought he could best me, to ‘take me out’ before I became more of a threat. I wonder if the layers of skin on his thigh ever grew back?”

       Artemis jolted at that bit of knowledge. Theseus hadn’t said anything to her about encountering Grindlewald following the war. Her eyes raced over the fine grain of the polished mahogany in front of her as she took in this new information. Even during their discussions before going to their separate tasks, he never said anything. His behavior had been the same, sharp and precise under the outward show of impatience. There hadn’t been any sort of… Guilt crept in as she thought over how she had avoided Theseus after the war, going out of her way to not worry him and to keep him out of her plans.

       “You’re lying,” she said finally. This was just a psychological tool the bastard was using to get under her skin. Her brother wasn’t the secretive type. He didn’t hide such things. _You know better. He would, if only to protect you. Worse, you didn’t care to ask._

       “Believe what you will,” Grindlewald said with a negligent shrug. “You have more important things to worry about now, don’t you?”

*~*~*

        Tina waited until they were in the execution vault and the door was closed behind them, the two women she’d known as colleagues and friends locked inside with her, to act. She stood at the edge of the black pool and stared down, feeling her insides swirl along with the viscous liquid that would dissolve a person in mere minutes. In a million years, she never thought she’d be on this end of things, staring down her potential demise. She never thought she’d be so calm about it.

        Tina had also never in a million years thought that she’d be slipping a fucking Swooping Evil out of her breast pocket to let loose on her former teammates. But here she was. Using the command and inflection Artemis had drilled into her just that afternoon, she retrieved the horrifying flying monster and tucked it back into her pocket with an uneasy tummy. Checking their necks for a pulse, she breathed out a sigh of relief when she felt it, slow but steady.

        When the other woman had pulled her aside once Percival and Theseus had let out for their meeting with the mysterious contact, Tina had known that things were about to go in an interesting direction. She just hadn’t realized exactly _how_ interesting. “It’s going to be _fine,_ Tina,” Tina mocked in a horrendous British accent as she gathered up her former teammates’ wands and tucked them into her pocket. They wouldn’t work as well as her own wand, but they weren’t completely useless. “We can go gather more intel, Tina. Simple. We’ll be back before Percy and ‘Seus, long before, yeah?”

        Tina snorted. Obviously Artemis’s reputation as a trouble magnet hadn’t been exaggerated. It had sounded like a solid idea at the time, despite that niggling feeling at the back of her skull that it seemed a bit too simple. They had gone to Gnorlack’s speakeasy, looking to glean some information about the comings and goings at MACUSA and what the word on the underground might be. Artemis had insisted they leave Queenie and Jacob behind with the other half of the talisman, just in case. Which, as it so happened, had been a brilliant idea. It _hadn’t_ been a brilliant idea for the suicidal redhead to press it into Tina’s hands when everything had gone tits up when the squad of aurors crashed in on a convenient raid, leaving her completely defenseless, now stuck alone and unsupervised in an interrogation room with the most dangerous wizard of their time, being as she’d also handed off the Swooping Evil pod before they’d even left the safety of the case.

        “This Hannah,” her unbalanced friend had said in that oddly gentle way of hers, green eyes focused on the brilliant green husk that was just then cradled in Tina’s palm. She’d had to reign in the impulse to throw it as hard and far as she could when she’d realized exactly _what_ she was holding. This thing _ate people’s brains_ , and Art was just casually explaining how to use ‘Hannah’ to her advantage, just in case, and that she had to say a certain thing in a certain way, at a certain time to bring her back to heel or else there would be casualties. Well. Tina was just glad that her memory was impeccable when it came to life or death situations and she learned awful quick. It’s what had made her a good auror. Now, that talent had made sure she had her momentary freedom and her spelled colleagues were still breathing.

        She stood in the silent room and just listened to the woosh of her own frantic heart for a moment, struggling with what she knew was smart, and what she knew was right. The plan was for them to use the reverse portkey to get back to the cabin if anything went wrong. As it was still active and the two pieces were still keyed to each other, it had been simple enough for Percival to tweak the spell to allow them to access it as they would any normal portkey. It was brilliant, considering that apparation wouldn’t always be an option if they got into trouble, and it was obviously off the official books. Tina was pretty sure that Percival didn’t have it in mind for it to be used so quickly, and for Art to be left behind.

        Going back for Artemis could potentially get both of them killed. Realistically, she knew she was outmanned and fighting a losing battle. If she were to go for help, it upped their chances by at least half, especially if Graves and Theseus were back from their own mission.

        In the end, the decision was made for her when the doors were blasted open and reinforcements flooded the room, wands drawn and pointed directly at her. In her panic, Tina had forgotten about the observation wards set into the fabric of the room. Cursing, she clutched the portkey and activated it.

*~*~*


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, I've been having the *craziest* week ever! Aaargh. First, I wanna say that I didn't have a lot of time to go over this before I posted it, so any kind of weird mistakes, I promise I will come back this afternoon and fix it! Second, THANK YOU all for being so amazing and reading this thing and letting me know how much you're enjoying it. It really helps stroke the writer's ego and makes it soooooo much easier to sit back down at the keyboard to make more words. <3

        Theseus knew the moment he stepped into the MACUSA headquarters that something big had happened. The air was charged with a nervous excitement, despite there not being anything outwardly amiss. People dressed for the office milled about, rushing from place to place with a certain step that seemed a bit too eager for a normal workday. He and Percival had decided that it would be good for him to make an unobtrusive visit to MACUSA to make his presence known with the excuse that he was in town to visit an old friend and just wanted to pop in and make sure all his paperwork was in order and the permits sorted for his stay. He had everything lined up on his tongue as to what to say and to whom. He had the name and contact information to their _friend_ , and as it sat, it would be enough to get him a free pass for the time being. Not even Picquery herself would have reason to even raise an eyebrow.

         Percival had taken their ally back to the hunter's cabin to further prove their theories and really bring the man into their camp, and he wasn't even a bit ashamed to admit he was happy to leave his sister's reaction to someone decidedly not him. She was notoriously high strung around anyone official, himself and Percy the exception for obvious reasons, and he knew she wouldn't be very forthcoming when it came to the Barebone boy. As per her usual, Artemis had taken the young man under her wing and was shaping up to be as viciously protective of him as she was of the rest of her beasts. There was no way it was going to be easy to convince her to let Thompson into her case or anywhere near Credence. He sincerely wished Percy luck, knowing his old friend would certainly need it.

         The initial meeting had taken nearly three hours, after the shock of seeing his Director of Magical Security a good thirty pounds lighter than he had been just a day before, sporting a cane and enough added silver to his hair to be noticed, the other man had abruptly poured himself a tumbler of good scotch and ordered them to explain. A rather intense poking through Percival's memories of the past weeks had him staring into space for a few moments while everything processed. Lucas Thomson wasn't someone easily swayed, and he was a well-kept, dangerous secret within the walls of both MACUSA and most of the international council hierarchy for a reason.

         Theseus stopped a man in auror robes who was rushing forward with his hand on his wand holster and eyes intent on the staircase leading downstairs. "Say, what's the emergency?"

        The man looked him up and down with a derisive eye and asked in a superior tone, "Who are you to ask, pal?"

        "Theseus Scamander, Director of Magical Security from the Ministry of Magic in London. Here for a visit. There a problem?" Theseus would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the quick look of surprised panic that crossed over the other man's face.

        "N-no sir," the man stammered in an abrupt change of attitude. "I- I mean, yes, sir. We have a suspected Grindlewald supporter in interrogation with Director Graves. She's suspected to be behind the attacks on the city, sir."

        Theseus held back his immediate reaction of surprised horror. Just because the suspect was a woman didn't mean it was his sister. He pasted cool interest across his face and fell in step with the young auror, placing him in the rookie category by how easily he just accepted Theseus's word on who he was. Any seasoned official would automatically ask for identification and escort him to the nearest superior, not get flustered and take a strange entity down to the holding cells. He was beginning to see why it had been so easy for Grindlewald to infiltrate MACUSA and stay under the radar for so long.

         A few pointed questions made his left eye start to twitch. Son of a bitch. How in Hades did Artemis get wrapped up... _Merlin's beard_ , he was going to hex her silly when they were clear of this mess. When they reached the lower level, he'd gleaned what he could from the upstart, which wasn't much. All he knew was that there was a woman that had been brought in with a suspected traitor, one Porpentina Goldstein, who had been demoted from her spot as an auror and had apparently defected. The young man had nearly spat the woman's name, anger high in his cheeks at the idea that one of his colleagues had gone so dark, right under his nose.

         The irony of it was almost too much for Theseus. When they were safely in the cool, dimly lit corridors of the basement holding cells, Theseus took the young man's wand after dropping him with a silent and unnecessary fist to the temple. He could have just stunned the idiot, but he was feeling particularly violent the closer they came to where he was positive he was going to see his little sister sitting in an interrogation room across from a psychopath. Clutching his wand at the ready and walking lightly, he cautiously proceeded through the oddly deserted hallways.

         For something as high alert priority as this was, there was _no one_ around. Each holding cell he checked was empty. Interrogation rooms were deserted. Starting to feel that sick anxiety, he started running toward the stairs when he realized there was absolutely no one and nothing where it was supposed to be. Going directly to where he remembered the Director of Magical Security's office was, he burst into the well-ordered room and found it empty as well. Feeling a bit like he was in a nightmare, Theseus wanted to scream as he turned back to see the normal hustle and bustle of the MACUSA office workers as they went along their business as usual.

*~*~*

         Tina looked like she was going to be sick the moment she saw him, Percival noted as soon as he and Thompson arrived at the cabin after splitting ways with Theseus. She was white as a sheet and visibly trembling, her eyes filling with more tears as she started spewing disjointed words at him. Words that made his blood run cold. _"_ _Sorry,"_ and, _"_ _Art in MACUSA, went to... I'm so sorry... She. Grindlewald... interrogation, death chamber."_

         "Goldstein," Percival snapped, rushing forward to take her shoulders in an iron grip. "Shut up! Take a breath and start over. Where is Artemis? What happened?"

         The dark haired woman took a shaky breath and let it back out, visibly trying to pull herself together. Queenie stepped up behind her and slipped her hands around to rest on her sister's hips. Breathe in, Tinnie. C'mon, you've got it. In one more time, then out." She turned frightened eyes to Percival over Tina's shoulder and said, "They went on a reconnaissance mission to The Blind Pig to get a feel for the word on the underground. There was a raid and they got taken into custody. Grindle-Graves had them in an interrogation room and had everyone under a mind-altering spell. He openly asked where you and Credence were, with two of the aurors in the room. They acted as if they didn't hear it."

          Tina let out a sob, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth for a moment before attempting to speak, "Th- they just acted as if I were acting like a lunatic. H-He sent... he sent me to the execution room without a hesitation. A-Art. She g-gave me Hannah b-before we even left, she said it was just i-in case. Then she handed over the goddamn portkey!"

         "Son of a bitch," Percival cursed, closing his eyes briefly.

         "Percival," Tina whispered, and he looked at her intently. She never used his first name, not in all the time he'd known her. "She was in there with him, cuffed and vulnerable when they hauled me out.

*~*~*

         She came awake in shades of gray light and an increasing awareness of pain. Her hands were still bound, but now they were behind her, pulling on her shoulders painfully as she lay on her side on a cold, hard surface. Not opening her eyes yet, Artemis let her other senses wander, taking stock of what she could before alerting her captor that she was awake. She evened out her breathing and forced herself very, very still. She was somewhere underground, the air smelling musty and stale with a heavy coppery taint that made her throat tight at the implications.

         She could hear water dripping somewhere, a slow, steady splattering that could very easily become irritating if one focused on it too long. There was a creaking, as if something were moving very slowly on unoiled hinges, but there was nothing else. Once Artemis was as certain as she could be that she was alone, she did a physical inventory before opening her eyes. Aches and pains in varying degrees was the worst of it, inflammation of old injuries due to being tossed around like a rag doll and left in one position for too long. Her left hip where it had been broken by an old quidditch injury was the highlight, and she winced as she shifted to take the pressure off the bone.

         She'd been stripped of her coat and blouse, left in her camisole and trousers, and she was thankful for small mercies. If his aim was to humiliate, he'd stopped short of the full effect. The cold had sunk in, and she shivered as she became more and more aware of the small discomforts. She didn't want to open her eyes, already figuring that whatever he'd staged would be horrific. She had his number, and she thought she had his strategy figured out. First to soften her up with a bit of psychological torture, head games like the comment he'd thrown in about Theseus, and the underground dungeon routine. Undressing her while she was unconscious, but leaving enough clothing for it to be more of a slap to have it removed later. Steeling herself, and knowing it wouldn't be enough, she opened her eyes.

          Unable to stop the automatic recoil, she swallowed back bile and resisted the urge to close her eyes again. She wasn't in the same place that Percival had been held, but it was horribly similar. Scrambling to get upright as much as possible, and whimpering low in her throat when she realized her feet were shackled together, Artemis managed to get in a sitting position against the cement block wall. Breathing hard, she had to concede the first few points of this sick game to Grindlewald for achieving his initial goal. The man hanging nearly directly over her, less than a foot away, was the source of both the dripping and the creaking sounds.

         She couldn't tell if he was alive or not, his eyes closed and mouth slack while the oversized and blood-soaked shirt bunched over the chest and ribcage, disguising any movement that might be considered breathing. Her own breath coming in gasps, Artemis knew she was starting to panic and that it was the absolute worst thing for her to do. The man was young, maybe a few years younger than her, with a strong build and a handsome face under the bruises. He was being held up by the same kind of manacles that encircled her own wrists, only with a longer chain between so that he could be hoisted and hung by the thick copper pipes that seemed to line the ceiling of the closed space. His feet were bare, and the brown trousers he was wearing were dark along one side, soaked to saturation with blood that was dripping off of his toes, which were a good five inches off the ground.

         Grindlewald wasn't stupid. He had her measure just as sure as she had his. Or she assumed he did, as she didn't want to underestimate the bloody madman. Mind racing, eyes averted, Artemis tried to regulate her breathing. Her stomach was swimming, acid burning up into her esophagus. _Stupid! Merlin's fucking beard, you've really done it now, haven't you?_ Tears burned and she wanted to scream out the terror building in her chest, but found it lodged somewhere in her upper chest. She'd been so goddamn full of herself, sending off all of her defenses with Tina, thinking that she was safe in the halls of MACUSA. Surely the other woman could manage to bring back reinforcements while Artemis bullshitted and stalled for time. She'd miscalculated the hold the fanatic had on the inner workings of the American magical judicial system. She'd miscalculated everything, and now she was here.

         Head falling back against the concrete with a dull thud, Artemis tried to rally as best she could. It was no good falling apart now. She needed her head together if she was going to survive this. _Percy will come._ She had to believe it, there wasn't any other choice. She closed her eyes and allowed a few tears to fall.

         _Gods, I am so sorry._

*~*~*

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am forever grateful for all of you reading this!!!! Holy shit, you're amazing. The comments and kudos and people following this are seriously the reason I'm still mucking through. This chapter seemed difficult for me, maybe a bit choppy? Whatever it is, I hope you all like it and it doesn't suck. <3

*~*~*

         "There's nothin' I would like better than to rush in and just burn the whole building down," Jacob said, once again bravely stepping in to be the voice of reason. "I've got loads of explosive training under my belt, so I can do it. _But_ we don't even know where he's keeping her. It could be anywhere, New York's a big place, right? We could get people killed if we do this wrong."

          Percival glowered at the no-maj, dark eyes snapping with irritation. Theseus didn't even look at him, not turning from his furious pacing, eyes focused on the grain of the wood under his feet as his mind racked over all the possibilities. He didn't know the city, but he did know Grindlewald. He knew the pathology and the patterns the lunatic followed- as much work as he'd put in over the last few years on damage control overseas, it was no wonder. He'd seen the horrors first hand. He stopped abruptly and bent over at the waist, trying to hold back the very real threat of vomiting all over the rug. His baby sister was in the hands of someone capable of just about anything. She had knowledge of something he wanted, and Artemis was frighteningly stubborn about protecting those she loved. Fucking Hufflepuffs. Goddamn loyal, stubborn bastards. He wanted to scream.

          Queenie pressed her hand to her mouth and left the room, hurrying out the front door to put distance between herself and the bloody images hurling at breakneck speed through his mind. He wasn't meaning to do it, and she wasn't meaning to tune in so hard, but it was so difficult to block out highly emotional projecting. She ignored the cold and ran to the outskirts of the front garden and into the forest, desperate to be alone in her own head. It had been a perfect storm of disturbing and very real distress, from Artemis's brother, and from Percival.

            She'd seen what the dark wizard was capable of when she'd helped play mediwitch after they had rescued her boss. Queenie had been privy to the nightmares that had plagued him in the weeks after, as he'd healed and they'd laid low at the cabin. She'd seen the flashbacks, and she could see the utter terror that gripped him thinking of their more delicate friend. You combined that with Tina's guilt and Theseus's knowledge of the carnage in Europe, and Queenie was ready to fly apart at the seams. Her normal shields were pitiful at best, and here they were completely useless.

           She was huddled up in the roots of a giant oak, her back against the soothingly solid trunk when Jacob's gentle concern came through like a balm. His smile was so sweet when she looked up at him, patting the ground next to her and scooting over to make room. His cheeks were charmingly red, but he didn't hesitate to sit down after wrapping an old cloak over her shoulders. He had to be the sweetest man alive.

           There were hidden edges to him, edges that the war and borderline poverty had put there. But his very nature was so alive and optimistic that it overshadowed that darkness. His almost childlike wonder at the magical world revealed to him soothed her edges, as did the reverence with which he looked at _her_. She was used to admiring gazes from men, but more often than not, they were accompanied by not so flattering thought patterns that usually ended with her on her knees or back. Queenie knew how people saw her, and it was refreshing to bask in Jacob. It was lovely and quiet and more flattering than anything else she'd ever witnessed.

          Right now, he was a solid presence next to her, his arm over her shoulders, drawing her into his warmth. "You doin' all right, doll?"

          "Yeah," she said. "Now that you're here."

*~*~*

         "Where was he keeping you," Theseus asked abruptly, ignoring the younger Goldstein's sudden departure. His focus was intense as he fixed Percival with sharp eyes. His hands were planted at his hips, fingers digging in as he fought the urge to throw a punch at the nearest surface.

         "In a pocket room behind the wardrobe in my apartment. I'm sure he's not using it again because that would be the absolute first place we'd check."

         "What kind of environment did he create," Theseus persisted. "Damp, dark, cellar-type place?"

         "Yeah. It was exactly like that. A picture of what you'd think a castle dungeon would be like. What are you thinking?" 

         Theseus didn't answer, he just took off for the bedroom door and Art's case resting near the foot of the single bed. Thompson had already left, going back to MACUSA to sound the alarm and start shaking things up. He'd seen enough, heard enough to know that he wasn't being taken for a fool. He was furious that such dangerous nonsense had happened under his nose, and had vowed that he would do his part in locking down not only the building, but the people in it. He'd taken Tina with him, telling her in clipped tones that he needed her help to set things to rights.

         Apprehensive at leaving her friends behind, Tina had nevertheless gone without much fuss, knowing that someone from their group needed to be a part of the inquest. She could keep an eye out for anything that might lead to finding her friend and still work towards revealing the imposter that had taken over Graves's life. Percival, himself couldn't be seen just yet, which was perfectly fine with him, as anything to do with MACUSA proper would take away from any efforts to find and rescue Artemis, and that was unacceptable.

          At the moment, Percival followed his old friend down into the case, moving gingerly as he tried to keep up. He didn't need the cane any longer, but his movements were still slow and careful. Theseus was mobbed by worried creatures, who he soothed as best he could when he was in such a high alert near-panic and racing for whatever had popped into that manic brain of his. Dougal made a beeline for Percy, hugging his legs and hampering his progress. Biting back impatience as he lost sight of the taller man, he stopped and allowed the demiguise to take his hand and tug him in the opposite direction. This was getting absurd.

          When he saw the Barebone boy huddled up in the icy tundra habitat with the bubble containing the captured obscurus, he knew exactly why Dougal needed him to come. The young man was sitting with his knees to his chest, shivering in the ice and snow, his eyes fathomless and black as he stared at the whirling smoke that was hovering far too close for Percival's comfort.

          He shrugged out of his own jacket and muttered a wandless warming charm, making sure to make noise as he approached and placed the garment over the boy's shoulders. Ignoring the pain flaring in his joints as his body adjusted to the abrupt temperature change, he sent the bubble back a few feet and sat down next to Credence.

          "This is all because of me," Credence said quietly, his voice barely audible over the rush of the artificial blizzard. He was hunched in on himself, trying to make long limbs as compact as possible. It seemed as if he were trying to disappear altogether, and it made something in Percival's chest go a bit tight. He'd seen this kind of behavior before, back when he was on the streets in his early years as an auror. He'd done his fair share of child welfare checks and intervention. It made him sick knowing that they had been aware of the New Salem Church and the state of the 'charity' _that woman_ had claimed as a front for rampant hatred and cruelty, and hadn't done anything about it. It was their strict policy to stay out of the no-maj affairs that didn't pertain directly to the well-being of the wizarding community. So, they'd kept an eye on the fanatical ravings and ignored the blatant child abuse as a direct order from their president.

          They had created this with their willful disregard. _Percival_ had created this, and allowed it to continue despite all the feelings of pity and shame when he'd seen the children- when he had seen _Credence_ \- out on the streets in all sorts of weather, ill-equipped to deal with the elements and looking more like starved and beaten dogs than kids. As Picquery's right hand, he'd had the power to change it. He'd convinced himself that it wasn't their job to take care of it, that the very laws forbid stepping in. It was all bullshit. All of it. The laws, Seraphina's willful ignorance and cold dismissal, his own single-minded focus on doing everything exactly by the fucking book. All of them so safe behind their fucking laws. Meanwhile, a child- _one of their own-_ had fallen through the cracks they had created, starved, beaten, and humiliated so often and for so long that he had become one of the most powerful and dangerous creatures known to wizarding kind.

          "Don't be stupid," Percival said gruffly, swept up in his own unkind thoughts. He cleared his throat and tried to soften his words. "We're not dealing with an amateur dark wizard, Credence. This is a man that has nearly reduced wizarding Europe into a frothing nightmare. He has a much bigger agenda, where we're merely pawns. A means to an end. None of us are strictly at fault." All of them were at fault.

          Credence looked down at the swirling snow, brows furrowed and mouth drawn down into a too-familiar frown. "I'm the one he's probably torturing Ms. Scamander over. He's hurting her to find me. I don't deserve that kind of protection."

           "I don't either, kid," Percival agreed harshly. "None of us do, but yet she won't give us up."

           Black, swirling eyes fixed on him then, as if the boy were surprised to hear the brutal truth instead of a platitude. The Goldstein sisters had been trying to be very gentle around him. He didn't understand their kindness either, and it had taken a while for him to trust it. But their approach was to try and shelter him, to keep their words positive. They kept him occupied elsewhere as talk had circled around the man that he'd known as Mr. Graves, which wasn't Mr. Graves at all. Ms. Scamander and the real Mr. Graves weren't like that. Credence felt his stomach start to cramp just a little at the heavy guilt.

           Ms. Scamander, or Art, as she'd tried so many times to get him to call her, had a way of making him feel different. It had been easier for him to trust her than it had been with the Goldsteins. She was awkward and shy and kind. Her hands and arms were just as scarred as his, and he was too scared to ask who or what had caused them. Credence knew that she knew what it was like to suffer, or to bear witness to deep suffering. The thought of her kindness being used against her made him sick.

          "Listen, we're going to do whatever it takes to get her back, okay?" Percival sighed then and ran his fingers through his hair and amended his statement, as if he could hear what ideas had been forming in Credence's mind while he stared at the swirling smoke-bubble, "Without jeopardizing any of the rest of us. That means you too, so no idiotic moves. No rushing out to put yourself in harm's way to get him-"

          "That's exactly what we're going to do," Theseus interrupted, bursting through the tarped entrance, looking at them with wild amber-green eyes. "He's going to come to us, and we're going to get my sister back."

          "Theseus, you've finally lost your fucking mind."

*~*~*

          Artemis hated herself for crying when she saw the man hanging over her start to stir. It wasn't much movement, just a twitching of his feet and a deeper, trembling breath. She felt her stomach drop as his swollen eyes blinked open and he coughed painfully. _Merlin's Beard_ , it would have been so much better for both of them if he was already dead. She hated herself even more for the horrid thought.

          "Don't try to move," she told him in a hushed whisper.

          "Th-," his voice was like gravel, and he grimaced as he coughed again before trying to continue. "Thanks p-poppet, but I don't... think that'll... be a problem."

          She'd been in that dark, cold place for what felt like forever, but it must have really only been a matter of hours, if her fellow prisoner was coming back to consciousness. This must have been what it was like for Percival, she thought suddenly, unable to tear her eyes away from the other man. The thought of her lover in the place above her, chained by raw wrists and bleeding out from unspecified wounds made her rally and struggle to her feet, her own chains rattling.

         There was barely enough room for her to shuffle-step forward without tripping. Testing her magic, she felt it hum just under the surface, trapped just below the magic constraining metal of her shackles. Their captor would be coming along at any time, she could feel it. She realized the significance of the man in front of her, and it had little to do with shock value. Grindlewald knew, the utter bastard knew that it wasn't enough to physically torture _her_ , he knew that her over developed compassion would be far more effective than just hurting her alone.

         "Don't try to move," she told him again in a low, shaky voice. Artemis could smell blood and ozone thick and heavy now that she was so close. Her skin hummed as she tried to think of a way to help him with her hands bound behind her. Pickett was safely back in her case, and it was a mixed blessing. He was safe and pouting, but she was here vulnerable without his aide. "It's going to be a-all right."

          There was a sound that could be construed as a laugh, broken off by another painful sounding cough that rattled in his lungs. _Oh, Merlin._ She pushed her magic harder against the warming metal tightening warningly around her wrists. The more she pushed, the harder they squeezed until she was left panting and forced to stop. Frustrated tears followed the old pattern down her cheeks as she stood helplessly, so close to helping but unable.

          "N-never thought of you a-as a liar, S-Sc-Scamander."

          Freezing, Artemis stared at him, trying to piece together where she knew him from. She was new to New York, she was new to _America_ , there was no one here aside from Jacob and the Goldstein sisters that she'd gotten to know well enough for them to recognize her by voice alone. His features were so distorted it was difficult to get a read on anything familiar even this close, and to be frank, she never put much thought into remembering the humans she came in contact with.

          "I'm sorry," she said, feeling even more like a heel for not knowing him. She suddenly _wanted_ to know him, almost desperately. She wanted to know his name, how he knew her, how he'd ended up down here. _Why_ he was down here. His accent had a distinctive Irish lilt to it, beyond the slurring. "I- I can't... I don't..."

          "Ah, darling," a new voice came through the dark room, making her jump and flinch back automatically, momentarily forgetting the short chain that tethered her feet. She fell, landing hard on her tailbone and lower back, her hands bending painfully with the impact. Before she knew it, the man wearing Percival's face was kneeling in front of her, a tender smile on his lips. She held her breath when he reached out a hand to caress her cheek. "You're awake."

 

*~*~*


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Better late than never, right? As always, SO MUCH LOVE for all of you. Thank you for reading and commenting and leaving kudos, you have no idea how much it means to me! Sorry to say that I left you guys with more cliffhangers, but my time limit was running out for posting and I had to cut some stuff out because it wasn't meshing. I just didn't want to wait any longer to make an update. There should be another chapter posted here *very soon*, like within the next couple days so I won't leave you hanging for too long. ;)

*~*~*

          Percival stared out at the swirling darkness, one hand clutching his wand, and the other gripping the handle of the newly reinstated cane with white knuckles. Queenie had handed it to him as they were lining up to leave the cabin, her dark eyes suspiciously wet. He'd taken it without a word, a muscle in his cheek twitching as the only sign of his distaste. She'd smiled and squeezed his arm, knowing exactly how he felt about using the blasted thing. It could be used as another weapon, he told himself and was cheered a bit at the thought of viciously ramming the heavy silver handle into Grindlewald's face. Though he was pretty certain that it would be his own face staring back at him while he did it. It would be worth it.

          Queenie had gone to the MACUSA building to clue everyone in on their epic plan and to get backup for when things would most assuredly go south. Theseus hadn't wanted to wait, but agreed that it would be best to have reinforcements on the way. He knew that if they were to wait for permission, it could drag on much longer than he was willing to endure. Percival hadn't had it in him to disagree, despite the riskiness of the entire thing. 

          They were in place outside of the New Salem church, in the alleyway where Credence had shamefully led them. It was where Grindlwald, wearing his goddamn face had arranged to meet with the boy in secret. The very thought of it made Percival sick. The dark wizard had treated the boy like a dirty secret, and a look at Credence's pale face and the way his shoulders hunched, it had gone beyond just words. He felt the sudden urge to apparate away with him somewhere far away from this mess, to leave him in a safe spot and then come back to do it without him. Percival hated every bit of this plan, but it was the only feasible path he could see working.

          It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Artemis was taken, and every minute they waited was another minute she was vulnerable. It was another minute that she was under the mercy of a lunatic that was nearly desperate. MACUSA had fallen into an uproar and the madman had to know that his façade  was over, that he wouldn't have a free pass at the American Ministry. He'd lost all his footholds. His access to the obscurial child was in the wind, as was his source of polyjuice ingredients. Percival figured that the other man had stores of his hair and blood to use, but according to Tina, who was their liaison between Seraphina and their little group, his apartment had been taken and closed off, as well as any other properties linked to him as the only surviving heir of the Graves lineage. It was only a matter of time before the potion wore off and he needed more. Even if the game was called, he still couldn't very well go around with his own face. Not in this political climate and a price on his head.

         The thought that using Percival's face wasn't as useful as it had been was a chilling thought. Picquery hadn't so far demanded for him to make an appearance, but Percival knew it was coming. He just didn't know if he was going to answer the summons or not. He needed to be right where he was. Luring a madman out using a terrified boy that had known nothing but cruelty and misery in his heartbreakingly short life. He knew that when she found out, Art was going to be furious.

          He clung to that with all his being, and nodded to Theseus as the other man firmed his mouth and raised an eyebrow in question. Furious and alive, Percival told himself. She was going to be all fire and spitting mad, because she had to be. There was no other option. He needed her to be.

          He pressed his hand to Credence's trembling back and said, "It's all right, Credence. Just as we discussed."

          Huge dark eyes looked up at him and Percival felt like he was the worst human being on the planet. "It's all right, Mr. Graves. We have to get him out and away from Ms. Scamander."

          "I won't let that woman get anywhere near you," Percival promised him darkly when he saw the boy's eyes returning to the darkened, nearly dilapidated church that he'd grown up in. "She's not a part of this. Not anymore. We're doing this to bring out Grindlewald, nothing more nothing less. We have to be here because this is the first place he would be looking for you."

          Credence nodded, but he was trembling under the coat Queenie had transfigured out of one of her own jackets into something functional and even fashionable for a teenage boy. Between all of them they had outfitted him with decent clothing, including boots and a colorful scarf Artemis had pulled from around her own neck just before she and Tina had gone on the foolish quest for underground intel. Percival felt his chest go tight when he watched Credence pull the soft knit material to his face to inhale the comforting scent that still lingered. When this clusterfuck was over, he was going to make sure the young man was legally emancipated and given all the opportunities to succeed in life. Call it a product of overinflated guilt, or an attempt to make his various wrongs from before right, Percival wasn't going to go back to the way things were done.

         He looked back to Theseus and raised his replacement wand. It wasn't the same as the one he'd grown up with, but it would do the job well enough. He swirled it in the air, calling up the winds while his oldest friend opened his sister's case and hesitated one last moment before disappearing into it. Percival could feel the power of the thunderbird as it slipped out of the opening, feathers crackling with unspent, dangerous energy.

         The massive beast flowed into the black alleyway, glowing with intent. Theseus stood in front of him, hair whipping around his face as he reached out hands to caress the sharp, scarred beak. Percival had to strain to hear him over the centralized storm that was growing with potential violence. "I know you can understand me, Frank. We need to do this for my sister. We need to do this for our Artemis. You know what to do, right?" The giant bird nudged Theseus's face in acknowledgment and then let out an ear-piercing shriek as he lifted off into the air.

         Fog rolled in as the temperature dropped, thunder claps shaking the very ground they stood on. Theseus stood there for a moment, his face lifted before raising his own wand to stir up the fog. He helped it along, adding his own chaotic element to it. There was a long moment before something elemental changed and so did the other man's expression. He seemed to channel the wild rage that he had been holding onto by a thread. All of the fear and all of the helpless, frustrated anger went into feeding the torrent. With a loud bellow of his own, the elder Scamander sibling directed the fury at a nearby building, watching with satisfaction as the brick and mortar flew apart with a cacophony of booms and cracks that echoed.

         Even knowing that the building was empty of people, that it had in fact been designated for demolition due to the need for more modern housing, Percival still felt a twinge of apprehension. That was all lost when he turned his face to Credence, feeling the teen go taut with fear. Face a good three shades paler than before, the boy was staring horror-struck at the church where his adopted mother and siblings were inside.

         Following his gaze, Percy snarled at the sight of the cruel woman now standing outside in the pathetic excuse for a front garden. She was dressed in her habitual black and gray suit; even so late in the evening she was buttoned up to mid-neck and down to her ankles. Face pressed into a scowl, she stared directly at them, eyes burning with furious hate.

         "Credence! You wicked boy!"

         Percival could feel Credence jerk under the restraining hand he held against his bony shoulder. He could feel the trembling start to increase until it felt like the boy was beginning to shake apart. _Mercy Lewis._ They had intended to manufacture the appearance of a raging obscurus. They were about to get the real thing.

         "Credence, you need to breathe," he stepped around in front of the teenager, both hands going to his shoulders to hold him in the moment. He moved one hand to cup a bone-white, clammy cheek, forcing swirling black eyes to hold his. "Credence, listen to me, you need to calm down. We need to keep things under control. Art needs us, right? She's in a bad spot and she's counting on you to hold it together. Grindlewald is going to come and we'll have him away from her. Then we can go get her back. How does that sound?"

         For a moment, it seemed as if Percival's words were having the desired effect. The black smoke that had started to curl around the edges of pale skin was slowly coming back to normal. Then there was a shriek of rage, and something struck Percival hard across his back and shoulders.

         "Get away from him, you pervert! Abomination! I will not have it! This is where you've been? Cavorting with sinners? I raised you better than that!"

         Mary Lou Barebone swung the sturdy umbrella, obviously the first thing her hands had landed on when she made the rush out of the foyer of the church, and struck Percival again. He grit his teeth and snatched it away from her easily enough. Though he still wasn't at the top of his game, he was still more than a match for the older woman. She whirled on Credence, who seemed frozen at the close proximity of his abusive mother. A hand swung out and caught him across the cheek with a loud crack that echoed even with the raging storm around them.

         "Credence, no!" Percival shouted and attempted to reach for Mary Lou, to do anything necessary to pull her back and away from where she was raining furious, mad blows down on the cowering boy. She gripped his hair and jerked his head back, flinging him to the cobblestone street where he looked up at her with a lifetime of anger and hate.

         None to gently, Percival grabbed her by her waist and jerked her away, reigning himself in from returning the favor. She fought against him, screaming about profanity and abominations, sins against God and the wrath of the righteous. There was an inhuman screeching starting behind him, and the former auror froze. Chills ran down his spine as he shoved Mary Lou towards the church, not really caring if she made it inside or not. He turned to face Credence, already knowing what he would see. The black formless cloud was growing, adding to the elemental magic of the thunderbird. Red lightning crackled through the thick mass, an increasing roar of anguish and fury filling the alleyways.

         Theseus was nowhere to be found, no doubt causing as much controlled mayhem as he could to try and attract attention. Well, they were about to get a lot of attention, and Percival couldn't help but grind his teeth. He'd known early on in their friendship that the Scamander siblings would be the end of him one day. Theseus was always harping on how impulsive his sister was, how thoughtless she was about her own safety. She 'dove right in' without a care to how it affected others. She got so focused on the end result that she wasn't aware of lasting consequences. Pot, meet Kettle. 

         As the obscurus completely took over Credence Barebone and Percival tried to maneuver out of the immediate path, he hoped that this was all worth it and it would be the draw that brought his imposter out and away from Artemis.

*~*~*

         Head lolling on her neck, Artemis tried to keep her wits. Every nerve in her body was sparking from the _crucio_ her tormenter had casually laid across her. Her body tried to curl up on itself, a pathetic attempt to shield her from the onslaught. She knew this was just a warmup, that he was just toying with her pain threshold to test limits. She was on her side now, knees pulling up to her chest, her face burning as it was pressed against the cold stone. She'd lost concept of time somewhere along the way, her focus snapping only to holding herself together.

         "I'm impressed, darling," Percy's voice cooed in her ear as Grindlewald stroked a hand down her clenching stomach. Of all of it, that's what was hurting the most. That this madman was using something so beloved to cause so much pain. He forced her over onto her back, pinning her with his weight, hips nestling between her legs. A negligent word had had her hands free but pinned to the cold stone floor above her head, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. "Your Percy didn't last this long without screaming. I thought he was doing well indeed, keeping his silence through the second wave. You've made it through three."

          Artemis ground her teeth together and turned her head to the side, refusing to look at him. "Ah, none of that," he tisked, and grasped her chin in an almost gentle grip, turning her face up towards him. She could feel his breath on her face, his mouth hovering over hers and she felt like she was going to be sick. "Look at me."

          She squeezed her eyes closed tighter, and swallowed hard when he laughed cruelly. "Oh, I knew you would be a joy, but this is... this is just exquisite. Open those fantastic eyes, let me see. Let me see you."

          Artemis felt the pull of magic and she opened her eyes to see her lover's face above her. They were pressed intimately together, his hips pinning her pelvis and his chest flush atop hers. He had one hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping her face. Her skin was crawling with his nearness, the wrongness of it making her strain against the hold he had on her. Percy's face so close to hers was awful, his dark eyes nearly black in the dim light and so cold with a sadistic glee that she knew her love would never have.

          "Such a pretty face," he murmured, releasing her chin to caress her cheek. "I can see why they covet you. Even a lover of men like my Albus could see the appeal. Is that why he worked so hard to try and save you? This pretty face?" He nearly spat the last words into her face, fisting his hand in her hair, jerking her head hard in sudden fury.

          Artemis swallowed any noise, not even sure if she was capable of it at this point. It seemed to make him angrier, his lip curling up in a snarl as he slammed her head down onto the hard floor. Pain speared through her head at the impact, and she squeezed her eyes shut again as he cracked her head back once more, white lights bursting behind her eyelids.

         Dimly she heard him snarl into her ear, "You won't be so pretty when I'm done with you, and we'll see how they fall at your charming feet then." She felt consciousness slipping away as her head impacted the floor again, and again.

*~*~*

         Theseus knew when things went from chaotic to completely out of control, what the bloody hell did I do, level of shit-storm. He raced back toward the corner alleyway when he heard the ungodly scream, knowing that something had triggered the obscurial into a full-blown rage. He hadn't intended for it to go this far. He knew that it was a possibility, of course, having to stage this so close to the orphanage that had created the parasite to begin with. To be completely honest, even if he would never admit it out loud, he had almost hoped for this outcome. Almost, because he did know the potential for real damage and loss of life was very high. But the real appearance of the obscurus was a sure-fire way of drawing Grindlewald out and away from his sister.

         This was something that he would have to come to terms with. Later. Much, much later, after his Artemis was safe and the evil bastard was in custody. Or dead. Theseus had no qualms whatsoever about putting the maniac down like a mad dog. First chance he got, he would go for the killing curse himself. There wasn't any holding back this time. The ginger auror felt the rage building, getting hotter and hotter as he came around the corner to see Percival fling himself out of the way of the huge mass of raging smoke that was aiming directly for the church.

         His friend was screaming, trying to remind the boy inside the electric mess that his sisters were inside. Theseus felt his stomach drop to somewhere near his knees. He had forgotten about the other children. In his blind haste, he'd forgotten that there were other, more vulnerable players. He screamed for Percival to distract as he raced for the front door of the church, trying to get there before the destructive force.

         In the corner of his eye, he saw his old friend scramble painfully to his feet and grab the horrid woman that had played such a huge role in shaping the broken creature Credence had become. He barged into the door, shouting for the other children, finding an older teenager staring at him from the base of the staircase. Her eyes were wide, and her body poised for flight.

         "How many others are there," Theseus barked at her, leaving no room for her to get past him.   

         "J-just me and Modesty." The girl, to her credit, didn't hesitate in answering.

         "Where is she? Get her down here, we need to get out." He waited for the girl to sprint upstairs, calling for her sister. When they reappeared, too obedient to really be healthy, he grabbed their hands and pulled them back out the door, racing for the main streets to try and avoid the destruction that was headed directly for the old building.

*~*~*

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer! :D I know I said this wouldn't take as long to get out, and I'm sorry I lied. But my state is on fire and we're all choking on smoke right now. The blaze is very, very close to where I live, though I'm personally safe within the city limits. Today is the first day I've been able to see a bit of sunshine through the ash.  
> Now that my excuses are over, THANK YOU again for all the beautiful support you guys are showing me with this fic. I will always get a major happy when I see comments and kudos. <3 That said, here's the chapter!!!

*~*~*

_"Lass, ya need ta wake up!"_ Artemis heard the wavering voice as if through a fog. She was floating in that soft place between sleep and waking, where nothing hurt and nothing was wrong. She was so heavy, like she was underwater. It was cold, too, just like the time she had gone into the black lake at Hogwarts to make friends with the giant squid and ended up charming the mermaids instead. Though technically, they were mer _people_ , as mermaids inferred just one gender, when in reality there were three. Through a bit of research and some in-depth discussions with her Care of Magical Creatures Professor, Artemis had been able to successfully brew a potion that enabled her to not only breathe under water for a good length of time, but to communicate with the more cognizant humanoids.

        When she'd come back from her dive, she'd seen Theseus standing on the lone dock, his arms crossed and an impressive scowl on his face. How he'd known what she was doing and when, Art had never found out. He wasn't even at Hogwarts anymore. He was supposed to be in the middle of auror training. He'd cast the drying and warming charms, keeping a stony silence even as she'd realized exactly how cold she had really gotten.

        It had been a bone deep chill, one that had lasted for much longer than it should have. She felt it now, that dark cold that had snuck in while she was otherwise occupied. It had settled into her very marrow, and with a deep, joint-rattling shudder, she _felt everything_.

        The pain came at her from all sides, and she curled up on her side instinctively with a horrible whimpering gasp.

       _"There ya are, love."_   She recognized the voice a bit better now that it was clearer. It wasn't tight with pain and weak from near-starvation. The hand that touched her face was colder than ice and her chest contracted with a sob that made her already agonized ribs shriek with pain. She knew what it meant. And she knew where she knew him from.

       He'd been in her division in the war. Seamus Maddock, a distant cousin of her mother's, and the only one other than Percy that she could have seen as an actual friend. Or as much of a friend as she could risk while still maintaining her cover. Seamus and she had run into each other after she'd been sent home and a few months after the war effort was done at a pub on the outskirts of London. She and Theseus had reunited and he'd insisted on taking her for a gentle night out with a few pints and some time to reaffirm that the both of them had made it out alive.

        Artemis had still been using modified crutches due to complications healing her hip and thigh bones after the crash landing. Magical healing was much better than muggle methods by far, but they weren't perfect. Seamus had approached her while Theseus was flirting with the girl running the bar and had sheepishly reintroduced himself.   

        His brogue had been thicker then, and his gaze shiny with amusement and something else. "Darlin'," he had drawled after she'd played along and reintroduced herself as Artemis Scamander. "If I'd have known ya was a girl, I'd have courted ya a long time ago."

        She'd laughed and turned him down, kindly but firmly. After a few more exchanged pleasantries, Theseus had come back and Seamus had wilted back into the background under her brother's unwavering stare. Artemis hadn't had much thought of him since.

         Until now. _"C'mon, poppet, y've gotta wake. The bastard's gone and y've gotta get out."_

         It hurt to even open her eyes, the pain in her head a rushing pounding and her vision too blurry to really make him out.

         "I-I can't," she whispered. "Hurts."

_"I know, darlin',"_ he sounded tinny now, as if his voice was coming from a growing distance. _"I've not much time. I can't stay with ya. But ya gotta move that pretty arse before he comes back."_

        Blinking, she forced herself to sit, leaning against the wall dizzily as the world spun and lurched around her. Her hands and feet were free, and she could feel her magic already flowing to try and repair the damage left from her captor's brutality. It wouldn't be nearly enough, but there was a reason wizards lived so long. Their magical cores did all they could to keep them alive at all costs. Artemis knew this through her studies with her creatures, of seeing sheer miracles of resiliency during the war. It was why wizards had a penchant for curses and hexes over physical violence. If the trauma is too severe, however... She weakly braced herself with one hand on the floor as nausea overwhelmed her and she threw up a thick yellow bile. The pain in her head was unbearable and she feared for a moment that she was about to go back under again.

        Icy cold hands cupped her face and neck, the pressure barely there but discernable. _"C'mon, poppet. C'mon. Ye can't go out now, there's a lot more for ya to do."_

        Artemis whimpered, and the pain was just too much. "I- I can't."

_"That's not the girl I know. The girl I know rides fuckin' dragons. The girl I know stands nose to snout with some of the meanest sonsabitches known to man. The girl I know took a swing at a battle-hardened cook with an iron skillet over a joke about cookin' up some dragon eggs for supper."_

Despite his urgent prodding, she felt the blackness come back up to overwhelm her again.

*~*~*

        Percival stared at the man wearing his face and could see where the disguise was slowly slipping. As was sanity, he noted as familiar black eyes tracked the sky with unabashed glee. They had been right about the chaos bringing him out of hiding, but nothing about it had been expected. He hadn't come alone, and his masked followers were now engaging with the squad of aurors Goldstein and Picquery herself had brought with them into the melee. All the while the obscurus was being contained by a force field conjured by the second wave of aurors called when it was obvious that a contingent of six wasn't nearly enough.

        The magical shield was doing its job, but it had infuriated the parasite even more, whipping it up into a fine frenzy of raging destruction. Thankfully, this section of the city had been slated for no-maj rehabilitation and the few residents still left in the neighborhood were sparse. It had been easy enough to send out a couple operatives to calmly inform them of a 'gas leak', and that it would be prudent to leave the area. Immediately. A bit of mind-altering wand-waving had them agreeing good-naturedly and hustling out and away without even a second thought to the obvious demolition around them. If only the rest of it could be so easy.

       "Where is she," Percival shouted over the whipping wind and the sound of buildings toppling around them. He stood only a few feet away, wand poised.

       The grin that split his doppelganger's face was feral and triumphant. His wand _\- Percival's fucking wand-_ was poised in return. He looked ready and eager to engage. "Wouldn't you like to know, Director Graves. Wouldn't you like to know. She's in a safe, out of the way little hole in the-"

        There was a scream of rage and the other man was nearly folded in half by the violent tackle that took him by surprise. Theseus had the marginally smaller man on the ground, straddling him while fists flew with the sickeningly meaty sound of flesh on flesh. He had been expecting a magical attack, not a physical one.

        "Theseus! No! Goddamnit, he knows where Artemis is," Percival screamed, going to attempt to pull his friend off.

        "Where is she," Theseus growled, one hand grinding the other man's wand hand into the rough pavement until he was forced to let it go, while the other gripped Grindlewald's throat, pressing in and down hard enough to cut off air. Without thinking, he pressed the tip of the wand into the ground and snapped it one-handed with a snarl. "I will make you hurt, you bloody fucking bastard. Tell me where she is!"

        "Theseus! You have to let him breathe enough to talk, man!" Percival hit his knees with a grunt, gripping his friend's shoulder to bring him back from the brink of blind rage.

        The moment the pressure was off his windpipe, Grindlewald started to laugh.

        Theseus smashed his fist into the dark lord's mouth with a furious bellow. He was rearing up to hit him again when Percival dived at him, tearing his arm back and away. "To hell with it, Theseus! We have to get your sister, and he's the only one who knows where she is. Get a hold of yourself, man! I want to beat his face in just as much, but we have to find Artemis!"

        It seemed as if Percival's shouted words had somewhat of an impact. Theseus's face went from an enraged red to deathly pale, and his eyes- the same green-gold eyes he shared with his baby sister- turned cold as ice chips. He reached down and gripped the bleeding man under him by the collar and hauled them both to their feet.

        "You're going to tell me where the bloody hell she is," he said in a deadly calm voice barely heard over the roaring around them, his face mere inches away from the other's. "You're going to tell me, or _Merlin help me_ , I'm going to feed you directly to the obscurus. He's right there, and you're not necessarily on his good list."

        The Polyjuice was fading fast now, and mismatched eyes shone madly back at the British war hero and his lips stretched into a bloody, macabre smile that was twisting as his features melted away and slowly reformed into his own.

        "Percy?" The sing-song voice called out and Percival gritted his teeth at the sound of it. "She called for you. She cried for you. You didn't come for her, Percy."

         Percival lunged for him, only to be caught by Tina grabbing his arm in a surprisingly hard grip. "That's what he wants! We have him, Director! He's not going anywhere! Remember protocol, we need to get him into interrogation. We have to do this the right way!"

         " _Fuck the right way,"_ Percival roared, rounding on her in disbelief. "She doesn't have any time! What world are you living in?"

         "In the world where he's eating this up!" Tina shouted right back at him in a move that would horrify her later. She shook his arm where she was still holding onto it, "Look at him! He's enjoying this and working us all up! I want to find her as much as you do, but we have to be _smart_!"

         "We need to calm Credence down and get this under control. Let me and Theseus take Grindlewald back to headquarters. Queenie's there and we can work on this the right way. You know there are ways to make him talk that don't play right into his manipulations."

        Knowing she was right, Percival rubbed a weary hand over his burning eyes and nodded. "Go. I'll work on Credence and then meet you there. Come to me the moment you get anything."

        "Yes, sir," Tina said on a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sir."

        The moment they and four of the surrounding aurors disapparated, he turned to face the raging teenage boy that had every right to burn and destroy everything in his path for the hand he had been dealt in his short life. The obscurus was pressing against the silvery shield erected over the two city blocks to contain the fallout, the inhuman screams echoing through the whipping wind and destructive whirling.

        Seraphina's magical signature tingled over his senses and he looked at her. "Don't hurt him, let me handle it." He spoke with a confidence he didn't really feel, everything inside him hollow as Grindlewald's words rolled through his mind on repeat.

       _She called for you. She cried for you._

*~*~*

       Artemis woke again to a large, warm tongue bathing the side of her face. For a moment, she thought she was back in her case, having fallen asleep in one of the habitats. But that wasn't right. The pain started inching back in slowly... then it hit her all at once like a sledgehammer to the solar plexus. She couldn't hear anything over the rushing in her ears, but she must have made some sort of noise, because the tongue bathing her stopped and a soft, familiar muzzle nudged at her chin.

        When she managed to push the pain back enough to crack her eyes open, she was shocked and dismayed to see Aggie, her sweet nundu crouched low over her with a worried look in her swirling black eyes. Beside her, with eyes wide and blue, was Dougal. She felt the spidery stick-like sensation of Pickett running his tiny hands over her temple and forehead. Or she assumed it was him, as the little bugger never would have let the others go on a rescue mission without him. It was hard to pick apart his movements from the near electric tingle of residual nerve damage from the dark magic used on her.

        "No, no..." the sound of her own voice was almost too much, even at the low volume she could manage. The sound shot though her head like an arrow, setting off sparks of light behind her eyes again. Something was very, very wrong. Her stomach rolled again and she swallowed it back the best she could.

        There was another nudge from Aggie, a concerned rumble shaking through all of them as the great feline made her worried displeasure known. "Go... Percy," she whispered, locking eyes with Dougal, knowing her faithful friend could understand. "'Seus... go."

       Aggie grumbled and settled in nearly on top of Artemis, laying her massive head on her paws, obviously settling in to guard her mummy. Pickett scrambled down to hug her neck, chittering in distress when he touched the blood running down from her hairline. Dougal gave one last solemn look, then faded from view. Unable to keep consciousness, Art let herself fade back out despite her worries of Grindlewald coming back to find her creatures there.

****

        Queenie stood stock still, her eyes wide and heart sinking at the sight of Art's case lying wide open on the floor of Wand Permits where she'd smuggled it in to hide under her sister's abandoned desk. Since everyone was either gone for the night or out with the cluster outside, she thought it was safer than anywhere else she could figure.

        But the lid was wide open. That only meant one thing. She felt a little sick. The babies had gone looking for their mama. 

        Artemis would never forgive her if something happened to them. Morgana help her, she had to find them before anyone else did. She quickly went to it and clambered down, closing the lid tightly behind her. First, she had to do her best to find out who was missing. Not that she really knew all of her friend's creatures, there were so many that it would be near impossible to do a full headcount. But Queenie knew the favorites that were closest to Artemis, though the other woman would deny any sort of favoritism. She could almost hear the clipped British tones, _'It would be like a mother choosing a favorite child. Unnecessary and hurtful. No, I take care of all of them equally.'_

        She pressed a fist to her aching chest and went to check the bowtruckle tree.

 

*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another quick note! I realize that realistically, Art wouldn't be as cognizant with major head trauma in real life as she is in the story. Let's just claim 'fanfic' and say that the automatic healing her magic is doing is going after reason first. *shrug* I had this nearly all written and didn't want to change it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Love you all!!! Here's another quick chapter! <3

         Percival stood in front of the swirling storm that used to be Credence Barebone and shouted into the maelstrom of raging hate. His hair was whipping around his head, coat flapping around his torso and legs. He had planted his feet and kept his grip tight on the replacement wand that had just become his primary thanks to Theseus's tantrum.

         When this was all over, Percival promised himself wearily, he was going to retire and go wherever Artemis drug him off to. He sure as hell wasn't going to let her out of his sight again. He ducked a flying bit of brick as the obscurus slammed into the remnants of the building to his left. No, when this was all over, he was done with it all. All this time and they hadn't any idea he'd been taken and replaced. Seraphina, his friend since their days together at Ilvermorny, hadn't been able to look at him. Not even when they stood in a nook and discussed their strategy to calm and contain the destructive force laying waste to their city. Her honey eyes avoided his, and that stung more than he had expected it to. There were no apologies. There was nothing but clipped, businesslike tones. Then she was gone back to headquarters to oversee the interrogation and imprisonment of the most dangerous dark wizard of their time.

         At least he wasn't sitting in a cell, himself. That possibility had occurred to him. It was still a possibility, if he was being honest. He was intimately acquainted with the policies that made up the institution he had put his entire life and career into. He wouldn't be able to go back to his old life, his old job. There would be interrogations and inquiries into his fitness for the role of Director of Magical Security, of his possible involvement. He knew the trust his old friend was putting into him was because she had no other choice, and really what came after all of this was out of her hands. After the crisis came the scandal management and the politics. After nearly twenty years on the job as first an auror, then as a leader, he was suddenly bone tired of it all.

         When this was all over, he was going to put a ring on Artemis Scamander's finger to lock her to his side permanently and then get them the fuck out of the states. But first, he had to do damage control so he could go find her. He squared his shoulders and planted his feet more firmly, his hand clenching around the cane in his fist for balance.

         "Credence," he shouted into the swirling blackness. "Credence, you have listen to me! I know you're hurt and angry. You have every right to be."

         Percival had absolutely no idea what to say. It felt like it had been hours since this whole thing started. If he was going to run out of steam, it would have already happened. There was no other option but to try and talk the boy down. He decided on heartfelt honesty. Ignoring the people rushing around them in various stages of battle and attention, he spoke from instinct.

         "I need you to stop, Credence. I need you to stop and come back. We can deal with all of this together. No one is gonna hurt you anymore, not when I can stop it. When Artemis is safe, we can all go away. How does that sound, Credence? We can go away and go chase her beasts. Someone's gotta keep her outta trouble, right?"

         There was a pause in the noise, where everything seemed to just stop. He was listening. Percival cautiously lowered his voice down as the deadly mass came lower, hovering dangerously close. He could feel the power of it, brushing over his skin, making his heart skip and jump in his chest.

         "Would you be okay with that? Coming with us? We can get you your own wand and get you set up with tutors. Or we could just teach you ourselves. Art would love to teach you all about her animals and she's brilliant with potions. I could teach you defense and theory, we both could show you so much. There's a lot of world out there, outside this place, Credence. It's not all a bad place. We can go see it. Me, and you, and Artemis."

        There was a heavy, suspended moment, then there was an atmosphere shift. Percival felt his ears pop violently as the very air changed dramatically, then he was faced with a weeping teenage boy who threw himself into his arms with a gasping breath that sounded almost like a hiccuping gag.

        "It's okay, son," Percival murmured in the sudden deafening silence. "It's okay, I've got you. I've got you."

*~*~*

         Theseus barely heard the commotion outside the interrogation room where he was staring down the man who had taken his baby sister and left her somewhere to rot. His fingers were itching with the urge to stab the tip of his wand into the side of the bastard's temple and forcibly draw out the knowledge. If it wasn't for MACUSA's president sitting next to him and observing everything with a cool eye, and the very real threat of him getting tossed behind bars for brutality.

         He honestly thought the circumstances were grave enough and their prisoner evil enough for it to be justified. He wanted to make it hurt, to utterly devastate and plunder the other man's mind until there was nothing left but a pathetic, blubbering mess. He wanted to see him rot in Azkaban. He wanted to pick him apart bit by bit and find out everything, no holds barred, no mercy. Picquery's words to him before she allowed him in as lead on interrogation with Tina as backup and herself supervising rang in his ears and he knew he had to temper his reactions.

        Grindlewald was the ultimate prisoner, he carried knowledge that was imperative to shutting down the ranks of his followers. They had no idea the depth of his control, what safeholds he had in place, and most importantly, his immediate plans for his newly acquired intimate knowledge of MACUSA. The men he'd brought with him to meet the obscurus in the alleyway was testimony to the fact that he had followers here in the states that were willing to risk being unmasked. How many more were in the background, just waiting for their chance to act? Who was in the inner circle? How deep did this corruption go?

        Theseus just wanted to find his sister. After that, the bastards could do what they wanted, interrogate their own way to their own ends. He suddenly felt very tired and very frightened for what might have happened to the only living person who meant the most to him. If she was dead in a torture chamber somewhere, all bets were off. The walls would burn and the man sitting across from him would burn with it. Merlin help them all, it would be a bloody massacre because nothing else would matter.

        The commotion outside escalated, shouts and thumps coming through the closed and warded door. A muscle at the corner of his eye ticked and Grindlewald smirked at him from across the table. It was with a good amount of satisfaction that Theseus noted it was lopsided and painful looking due to the split and bruised mouth. He rubbed at his own bruised and cut knuckles, relishing in the soreness of a good fight.

        "I do believe that is for you, Auror Scamander."

         Picquery nodded at Tina, who got up and went to see what the commotion was. They sat in silence, Theseus glaring at the parchment in front of him, still not quite used to the square sheets rather than scrolls. He was keeping his silence for the moment, waiting for the fury to ebb back to a more normal level. Screaming in the other man's face wouldn't get him anywhere but thrown out of the interrogation all together.

         He was opening his mouth to ask for the fortieth time the whereabouts of his sister, when Grindlewald started talking. His voice was thick and slightly nasal, speaking around the broken nose and bruised esophagus. In a petty show of solidarity, Picquery hadn't called for a medic, leaving their prisoner with the superficial but painful injuries.

         "Your baby sister is a firecracker of a woman, Scamander," he lisped, still managing to sound infuriatingly smug. He leaned forward as if daring Theseus to take another swing at him. "Feeling her writhing in pain under me was such a treat. The more feminine persuasion never interested me much; too soft, too fragile. But young Artemis was something different all together. It was beautiful to take her apart. Pity we didn't have more time together

         Theseus was halfway across the table when he was roughly hauled back and stuck in his chair with a basic but effective sticking charm. Picquery was standing with her wand trained on the both of them, her usually stoic face taut with displeasure. She was opening her mouth to speak, when Tina rushed back into the room, her arms full of a familiar furry form.

        "Dougal knows where Artemis is! Theseus, we have to go! She's nearby! Madam President, we need to go, please."

*~*~*


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE YOU GUYS SO VERY, VERY MUCH! Lol, that said, here's the long overdue chapter! <3 I had a bit of trouble getting this started, because I was scared of doing a poor job of it.

       

        Artemis sat on the docks of the black lake at Hogwarts, her pale, bare feet dangling over the side and barely visible under the dark water. The cold didn't bother her, it never really had. She knew some of the other children had been frightened by what may lurk under the water, but she never had been. She knew what was down there, and they were much kinder than anything she'd experienced at the hands of her peers. She twitched and laughed as a thick, yellow-orange tentacle reached out to tickle the arch of her long, narrow foot. How Gabriel was able to come in so close to the shore wasn't even a question in her mind. He wasn't your ordinary muggle giant squid, you know. Everyone that lived under this rare, magical lake that happened to be saltwater and freshwater all at the same time, were special.

        Art smelled her before she saw her; that spicy sweet smell of cinnamon and apples she only associated with her friend. She'd wondered before why it was that Leta didn't smell of the damp earth of the dungeons like a lot of her fellow Slytherins. Figuring it was rude, she'd never braved to ask. People already thought her daft and annoying, she didn't want her only friend to think she was too. It wasn't until her smaller companion was settled in next to her that remembered that Leta Lestrange wasn't really her friend anymore. Maybe she never really had been.

        The sting of it made her cheeks flush and the happy greeting die on her tongue.

        "Don't be mad, Artsy. I'm sorry, I was scared." Artemis bit her cheek to stop the sudden tears at the old nickname. No one ever called her that but Leta. The little-girl affectation of her classmate's voice grated as she finally saw it for what it was. A manipulation. That's all it had ever been.

        "You can go away now, Lee." There were a lot more words swimming behind Artemis's teeth, but she didn't have the energy for them. She was very tired. There wasn't much upset over having to leave Hogwarts. Not really. She was more upset over the poor jarvey and how it had been tortured, then killed by people she knew and had to face every single day across the classroom. He had been tortured, and then set loose into the middle of a study group of her own housemates.

        Then Leta had pointed her finger at Artemis. For a Hufflepuff, and one so isolated and dependent on only one or two friendly faces to get through the hell of her magical education, the concept had rendered her speechless. She hadn't even been able to defend herself. Not against the jeering and screaming classmates, not the disapproving teachers, and certainly not against the coldly furious face of her father when he'd been called in to the headmaster's office.

        "He's gonna be coming for you, Artsy. You can't go. Not yet. You need to hang on a bit longer."

        Artemis was startled into looking over at the other girl, seeing a teenager with unruly black curls and matching eyes set in a pretty, heart shaped face. There was a sad smile on those cupid-bow lips, and Art opened her mouth to ask what she was talking about. A jolt of pain stabbed through the side of her head, making her lean and grip the splintered edge of the dock.

        Everything wavered and she felt the slimy, textured tentacle wrap around her ankle. It was reassuring and solid. Then it jerked, hard, and she was plunging into the black, cold depths.

*~*~*

        He didn't know what he would do if she didn't wake up. Theseus stared at the gray tile under his feet and tried to shut off his racing mind. It wasn't working; all he could see was his little sister in the middle of a pool of blood, leaned against the brick of a makeshift dungeon cell. Her skin had been that grayish white that came when someone was...

        He doubled over, placing his face in his hands as he tried to hold back the desperate tears. He could see her, no matter how hard he pressed against his closed eyelids, her face so serene and quiet where it was usually so animated. They'd had to maneuver around the poor sod that had been hanging from the pipes almost directly over her, long dead.

        Percival had hit his knees in front of her, gathering Artemis up before Theseus or Tina could even clear the bottom step. The cry that had left his best friend had been hard to hear, a guttural, terrified cry. It had been a fight for the medics to get in to take her, doing mandatory emergency checks for potential magical backlash for using magic before apparating with her directly to the in house hospital wing. The two men had locked eyes then, matching looks of pale horror.

        Percy had been kneeling in the congealed mess of gore, and Theseus had seen the exact moment where he had realized that his clothing was utterly soaked. He'd struggled to his feet, flinching back when Tina rushed forward to try and take his arm. He had sucked in a deep, unsteady breath, gripped Theseus's arm, and apparated them to the hospital wing. Then he had promptly disappeared into the room where the healers were working frantically over the too small form on the bleached white bedding. Just as promptly, they'd ushered him right back out with a gentle, respectful but very firm admonishment to keep out of their way so they could work.

        Picquery had arrived not too long after that, and the sounds of raised voices had echoed through the hallways and into the private waiting room where Theseus and the Goldstein sisters were waiting. Squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his fingers into them so hard he could see lights, Theseus nearly whined in relief when one of the milling medi-witches casted a sound-blocking charm and it all went nearly eerily silent. He just wanted to go in and see his sister. He wanted to know what they were doing behind those closed doors. He wanted to hold her hand. He wanted to bloody well switch places with her. He should be the one in that bed, not her. Never her. This was what he had been so scared of when he'd seen her off on her travels. Every owl that arrived with watered down news of her adventures, this was what had gone through his mind. For the most part, he only found out after she was already out of the danger zone. Artemis always made sure of it, even though he was her next of kin and supposed to be the first one notified if she was hurt.

        When this was over, she was coming home to England with him. She had plenty of material for her book; there was little to require more traveling. And when she needed to travel, he'd be more than happy to take the time to go with her. The thought had occurred to him before, but he had quickly written it off as a bad idea. He was too busy to take the time off, she liked her independence and would most likely kill him within a week of being in close quarters, he liked London too much to be away from home for very long. All bullshit. Mentally, he was rearranging his life to accommodate a plan that could make both of them happy. He'd have to step down from his Director of Magical Security position, something that stung more than just a little. But it would be worth it.

_Merlin and Morgana help me. I promise I'll do what I can to keep her safe. Please just let her live. Bring her back to me._

 

*~*~*

         Percival stared down his direct superior and friend and found himself ready to hand over everything just to get her to shut up and let him focus on Artemis. He ran his hand through his hair and heaved a breath. "Seraphina, please. You owe me this much. Let me get through these next few hours before diving into the politics."

         Her honey eyes widened and she paused, the words she was about to say next freezing on her tongue. She stared at him for a long moment before sighing and nodding. "All right, Percival. It can wait until Ms. Scamander comes out of this."

         "Thank you." Percival closed his eyes. He was exhausted, and all of the various aches and pains were flooding back in now that the adrenaline levels were fading back to normal.

         "You really love her, don't you?"

         He made direct eye contact as he answered, "Yes, I do. I have for a very long time."

         "Then don't let her go, Percy. You've been through too much to let this slip through your fingers. I know what this means, and I don't necessarily like it, but when it's time, I'll accept it. Hopefully, you will allow us some consulting time here and there."

         Relieved that at least this part of it was over, Percival nodded and was surprised when his reserved counterpart enfolded him in a quick, firm embrace. "I'm sorry, Percy. I'm sorry for all of it." She pulled away before he could come up with any sort of response, clearing her throat and adding, "Go ahead and get back in there. Send word to me if anything changes, will you?"

         He nodded and turned back, staring at the silent door for a moment before pushing his way back in.

*~*~*

          Swimming in the blackness, Artemis was aware of time passing, the atmosphere around her almost like water, but thicker. It was almost like... beaten eggs? Her mind drifted to an obscure potion she'd had to make for Horace that required nearly a dozen muggle emu eggs, beaten into a thick sludge and left under the ice of a tundra blizzard for two days to settle. Her thoughts grazed the surface of the memory, searching half-heartedly for the name of the potion and _why_ she had to hunt down emu eggs in the first place. She lost interest almost as fast as her mind had touched on it, floating away just like her body.

         It felt so good here, despite the almost slimy texture of her surroundings. Everything was quiet and still, so comfortably warm and smooth. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so safe, and yet it felt as if she'd always been here. There were no eyes on her, she was hidden and out of the hustle. There were no expectations, so she couldn't be a disappointment.

         Her head twitched as the first stirrings of pain started to seep in. Eyelashes fluttered as she felt the pressure start to build in her head, a press building up against the inside of her skull. Then it was suddenly overwhelming, sharp, jagged agony jolting down her neck and spine. She gasped and her body curled in on itself, hands going to fist in her hair as she tried to reign it in again. Cramps hit her muscles, joints popping and snapping, nerve endings flaring white-hot.   

         It was all encompassing and all she could do was _feel._

         A sweet voice filtered in, muffled but audible, and Artemis focused on it, letting it override. _"Shh, sweetie. I'm so sorry. I know this hurts. Darla, we need another vial of pain elixir. It won't hamper progress, and she's starting to seize."_

         There was another voice, not as soft or sweet, speaking words Artemis couldn't understand. But it faded out as the floating feeling descended over her again. _"That's it, doll. We've got you. We're gonna fix you up. You're gonna be right as rain before you know it."_

         As the woman's sweet voice echoed and faded, Artemis found herself in the hippogriff paddock, curled up under the protective wing of her childhood friend. Familiar smells of warm fur, feathers, and dirt teased her nose and she felt the tenseness slip away. This was her safe place when she was home for holiday. No one could touch her here with fiercely protective Fido standing guard.

         Not even her father in his fury would dare to come in after her. Her mum may have tried to lure her out a few times, but Art wasn't a stupid child. No. They would have to wait until she had no choice but leave the stable.

        The door to the stall squealed as it opened and Artemis peeked up over the powerful wing blanketing her. Theseus, as he was at fifteen, smiled at her, soft and affectionate. She was probably sleep-mussed and filthy.

         "Are they terribly angry?" The question left her before she knew it was coming. Her voice was very young, carrying the softness of childhood that had been lost between adolescence and adulthood. She sounded scared and unsure.

         Theseus's smile turned sad and he bowed to Fido, hands outstretched to show that he had no ill intent. The majestic creature bowed in return, gently nudging the top of Art's head as if to let her know that no matter what, even her beloved brother wouldn't be allowed to hurt her here.

         "They're not home, poppet," he said and joined her next to Fido, wrapping an arm around her thin shoulders. The difference in their size was very evident at these ages; she wouldn't hit her full impressive height until after the fiasco at Hogwarts, and Theseus had always been tall for his age. She felt very delicate against her brother's bulk. "They can't hurt you, I won't let them. _He_ won't hurt you anymore, so you need to come back."

          He was continuing before she could open her mouth to answer. He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace, pressing his face into her curls and letting a breath out in a shuddering sigh.

          "You can't leave me, Art. Please." The desperate note to his voice scared her; it didn't match the situation. Her parents were angry about the puffskein in the larder. She wasn't going away because of that, was she? Panic seized her heart and she clung tighter to him. Was this the last straw and they were actually going to send her away this time? Her father had threatened a few times to send her to live with her mother's cousins, the Weasleys, or maybe even to her Grandmum Scamander, who lived in a derelict slum on the outskirts of London where she would have to take a job in a muggle factory to earn her keep. Her cousins didn't sound so awful. They were a loud, colorful bunch that always seemed happy. But she didn't want to leave the farm, and she was sure that her father wouldn't send her to live somewhere that didn't sound so much like a punishment.

         "Art, _Merlin_ , please come back. I promise I'll be better. We can go together to find your beasts. I won't make you go back to the Ministry. I bloody well promise, baby."

         "'Seus," she started, confused. What was he talking about? She was right there. She hadn't gone anywhere yet. And if she could figure out a way to appease the wrath of her greatly put-upon parents, maybe she wouldn't have to. The rest of her words were cut off when the form holding her changed and grew. She seemed to grow too, and when she cracked her eyes open again, they were no longer in England at her childhood home. They were inside her case, sitting on the hillside next to the mooncalves. The sweet creatures were all cuddled up in piles around them, sleepy and content.

         It was Percy that was cradling her so tight. His trademark crisp cologne filled her nose and she inhaled deep.

         "Darling, I need you to wake up."

         She tried to tell him that she _was_ awake. Silly man, couldn't he see her looking at him? Her voice wasn't cooperating, staying still at the hollow of her throat. He stroked her hair, his touch so light as if to be barely there.

         "I don't think I can live without you. I don't want to, Artemis. There is no point to it if you're not here with me." His voice broke and so did her heart.

          She still couldn't speak, but she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest, squeezing as hard as she could.

_"Please wake up."_

*~*~*


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the light in my seriously WTF existence right now! Honestly, I love you all, so much! Here's the next installment :D

 

*~*~*

       Credence was still in shock that he was allowed inside the MACUSA building, let alone inside the _magical_ hospital ward where Artemis was being treated. It had been nearly four days since the fateful night where everything had fallen apart, and then fallen back together again. He'd been taken in by Mr. Graves- the _real_ Mr. Graves- and given his own bedroom with a wardrobe of simple yet weather appropriate clothing. He felt out of place wearing things that weren't threadbare and ill-fitting. It was more than he felt he deserved, and he could almost hear Ma's voice in his head, sneering that wastefulness was a sin just as vile as vanity. Mr. Graves hadn't allowed him any room to argue, cutting him off with a gentle but very firm reminder that anything he offered wasn't out of any sort of sordid intent. After a bit of embarrassment, Credence had subsided quietly, afraid to really make a fuss just in case Mr. Graves really did think he thought the older man had any sort of ill intent.

        Credence could tell that he would be more of a bother by arguing rather than just taking the kindness that was offered. Mr. Graves needed all his attention on Ms. Scamander, and the last thing he wanted was to be a nuisance. He shivered a little as he wrung his hands together in his lap. No, he really didn't want to be a nuisance. He didn't want to be sent away. He wanted so badly to stay, to be a part of the family he'd glimpsed during the days he'd spent with Ms. Scamander in her case, learning about her creatures and small feats of magic. He looked over her incredibly pale face, peaceful and slack with sleep. He'd never seen anyone with so many freckles before, and it leant a wholesome kindness to her features. His Ma had never looked peaceful or kind, even when she was sleeping.

        He was sitting in the hospital room, having come in with Queenie only to be left on watch while she and Tina bullied Mr. Graves and Mr. Scamander into going for an overdue meal and walk outside. They'd only gone after being strong-armed by the delicate looking woman, and assured that Artemis wasn't going to be left alone. Credence hadn't really thought he was the best to be standing guard, seeing that he'd just barely escaped being tossed in the wizard's version of jail after the destruction of an entire neighborhood. Again, he had Mr. Graves to thank for standing between him and the rest of MACUSA. He hadn't been there for that conversation, though he'd been curtly informed that the moment Ms. Scamander was out of the woods, he was to be "interviewed" extensively. With his new legal guardian sitting in, of course.  

      "Talk to her, yeah? Tell her whatever," Mr. Scamander had told him before he allowed Tina to tug him out of the door. He'd sounded hoarse and a bit unsteady as he ran fingers through unruly red hair that looked remarkably like his sister's. He was looking rough, as if he needed a few days worth of sleep and more than one steady meal. His tall, stocky frame was slumped with exhaustion and his face was pale and a bit haggard under the reddish-brown stubble that had started on his cheeks.

       Mr. Graves wasn't much better, with his usually immaculate clothes rumpled and his hair free of the pomade that had been a trademark for as long as the teenager had known him- or his double. Hell, Credence realized as his mind finally caught up with him. He didn't really know much about the real Mr. Graves, except that he didn't touch him in the same way. The firm hand on his shoulder was fatherly, warm, and stabilizing, not vaguely threatening. There wasn't the same kind of intensity peering out from behind eyes even darker than his own. He didn't feel that sick twist to his stomach when this Mr. Graves stood too close.

       Shaking his head, Credence tried to clear his head from the not-so-friendly twist of his own thoughts and focused on his task. Mr. Scamander had told him to talk to Artemis, to make sure she knew she wasn't alone. The other man thought that if she didn't have some sort of tie to this world, that she would float away for good. He'd talked and talked until his voice was nearly gone, and when he was forced into leaving, he pleaded with anyone nearby to just keep the narrative going.

        _"Please, just don't let her think she's alone. If she does, she'll go away again, and I can't... I-I just can't. Please, Percy, you've gotta keep her here. Tell her stories. She always liked listening to the letters you sent me when we were kids. Hell, she even listened to the ones you sent after the war and she was too old to have the hero-worship thing going."_ That had been the first time he'd been called away, and Credence hadn't forgotten it, or the stricken look on Mr. Graves's face.

        Credence took her delicate, fine boned hand in his and tried not to think about how fragile and icy it felt. His eyes traced the fine scars that littered the pale skin, some of them gnarled and ragged, while others were obviously from deep cuts rapidly healed without thought or care. They rose up over thin wrists and forearms, morphing into a thick, bumpy burn scar on her left side that looked like it had been very painful. Mixed in were black veiny lines that disappeared onto the short sleeves of the hospital gown they'd dressed her in.

       Remembering that he was actually supposed to be talking to her instead of just sitting and staring like a creep, Credence opened his mouth, hesitating as he tried to think of what to say.

      "You've gotta wake up soon," he blurted after a long moment of indecision. "I don't know if everyone can stand it much longer. They... Mr. Graves... Your Percival... and... a-and Theseus-" he stumbled over the first names, grimacing at the awkwardness of calling his betters by their Christian name. He expected someone to coldly inform him of his errors, but thought it was better to refer to them by names Artemis would be familiar with.

       When no one came out of the woodwork to scold him, he continued. "They're really scared for you, you know." He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. "I'm scared for you."

       He stopped and cleared his throat, uncomfortable. Then the words seemed to tumble out. "You've gotta come back. I need you to come back. I don't want to go back to the time before you were here. I had a taste of what a real home could be. I think my mother- my real mother- was a lot like you. I don't remember much about her, but how happy she always was. She would sing to me like you sing to the bowtruckles and occamy chicks. She would look after me... I remember that she was gentle..."

       He was startled to realize he was crying. The moisture dropped off the end of his chin to splash onto their joined hands with a soundless _plop_. "Please don't leave me too, Ms. Scamander. Art, please. I don't want to go back to the way it was without you. You've gotta come back. I promise, I'll be good and..."

        He gasped when he felt her hand move in his. It was a small, almost unrecognizable twitch of her fingers, but it was movement. When his eyes shot to her face, he held his breath when he saw her eyelids flutter before opening. She looked at him for a full half-minute, her chest rising and falling once in a shaky sigh, then they closed and she was gone again.

***

       The next time Artemis opened her eyes, it was Percival that was taking watch. Theseus had finally been ordered out to go sleep somewhere with a real bed, and Queenie had ushered Tina out along with Credence, leaving the former Director alone for a much needed quiet time. There were times when having a sensitive mind-reader on his side actually benefited.

       He was speaking to her in a low voice, telling her of his now official resignation of Director of Magical Security. His voice cracked just a little when he added, "See, you have to wake up soon, darling. Can't make a liar outta me, right? I showed Sera the ring I'd dug up out of the Graves family vault, and she went all gooey-eyed. That doesn't happen often. It's the engagement and wedding set handed down from heir to heir. It came to me when my mother passed. If you don't like it, we can change it. Each generation changed it just slightly. My mother added emeralds instead of rubies-"

       He stopped when he felt her arm jerk, fingers twitching and going stiff in his hold. He held his breath and watched as her eyes moved behind her eyelids and fluttered open.

        The healers had warned them that there might be a few lingering effects from the severe head trauma she'd suffered before they found her. Memory loss, and maybe even lasting brain damage. They had repaired as much as they could with magic and potions, but there had been no way of knowing until she actually woke up. Just like there was no telling how much nerve damage would remain after prolonged exposure to the cruciatus. You mix the two and it was a recipe for disaster. He didn't want to think about the gentle warnings the healer had given them to prepare them for the worst.

_"Just know that she might not know you when she first wakes up. If that happens, keep calm and don't overreact. She will reflect what you show her, so just go easy and kind. Again, this is just a possibility, and if it does manifest, it is most likely merely temporary. We can build on it."_

       "Hey," Percival breathed, barely daring to hope as he watched her so carefully. "There you are."

       Her eyebrows lowered as she stared at him in confusion, lips pursing as her throat worked. She blinked and looked at their surroundings. Taking heart that she wasn't pulling away in terror, he continued to speak gently. "You're safe. It's okay. You're in the med-ward at MACUSA."

       She blinked again, slowly, and he could almost see the gears slowly start moving, then her entire body went rigid as it all crashed in. Frantically, she gripped him as her eyes darted around, looking for her case.

       "Shh, shh, it's okay," he leaned forward and took her forearms, "They're safe. Do you remember Jacob and Queenie?"

        Her green eyes clouded, and his stomach sank. They moved over his face and his hands where they were still holding her steady, then back up to lock on his. Tears welled up and she shook her head shortly.

      "Do you know who I am?"

       She nodded, and whispered a hoarse, "Percy."

       "That's right, sweetheart," he smiled, and it felt unsteady. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she tried to form more questions, but found she was too exhausted and her throat too dry. He shushed her again, caressing the soft line of her cheek tenderly. "It's okay, baby. It's all right. You're awake now and you know me, everything else is just details."

        He felt his own tears start to fall when she closed her eyes and nuzzled into his touch. Everything else was just details.

***

        It took another three days for the mediwitches to declare Artemis fit to leave the hospital wing. They'd had a conference with Percival and Theseus, sitting the two men down with a list of things to watch for and a checklist of potions she needed. Test after test had revealed that the nerve damage wasn't as severe as it could- or should- have been. After a day of working with her, the mediwitch in charge of physical diagnostics had realized that Art herself wasn't much of a gage on pain levels, being that she just didn't process it the same as most patients. A mumbled conference had them changing tactics and going to more direct methods of monitoring Art's pain levels and where they originated from.

        Percival had felt sick when he had seen the lights come to life in varying degrees of reds, oranges, pinks, and blues. Blue was no pain, pink minor, orange medium, and red severe. Artemis hadn't understood their reactions, embarrassed enough to avoid looking at anyone, muttering a non-reassuring "Stop looking at me so. It's not as bad as..." She'd stopped then, apparently realizing that she wasn't earning any points.

        The only good thing that had come out of her, hopefully temporary, memory loss, was that she had no clear recollection of what had happened when she was held in the clutches of a madman. The witch assigned to Artemis had informed them in brusque, but sympathetic tones that with time and distance, she may start remembering a little bit at a time. It would most likely manifest in nightmares and random panic attacks or fears and phobias that hadn't existed before. It was something they could remedy with regular visits to a mind-healer and a plethora of love and support. She needed to know she was safe.

        Theseus was adamant that it was a good thing that she couldn't remember and had been obnoxious with his hovering and stubborn insistence on taking her back to London the moment they were clear. Artemis hadn't argued with him, but hadn't agreed to anything, her jaw taking a firm line every time her brother started in. He either didn't recognize the signs of her impending bullheadedness or he chose not to see it. Percival did, however, and he tried to distract whenever his friend got a bit too high handed in his speech.

        He still hadn't had time to speak to her alone, and he was waiting for the appropriate time. He knew she recognized that something had changed between them in the gap of her memories, and for that he was ever grateful. It helped that she remembered getting on the steamliner to the states and most of the voyage over, so she at least had recall of anticipating seeing him again. Everyone had been very clever in not filling in too many details just yet, keeping it to vague, 'there was a bad man and he hurt you', statements. Percival knew it was only a matter of time before she dug in her heels and found out all of the details. He made a silent promise to be there when she did.

         Tina, Queenie, and Jacob had all been devastated that their friend had nothing but a vague shimmer of recollection of their time together. After the first day, they hadn't visited after a well-meaning Theseus had asked for them to hold off, just in case. He didn't want them to trigger anything that might set his sister back. He was babying her, but doing it in a way that was so sly and out of sight, Percival had to admire his skill. Artemis was suspicious, but still too sore and exhausted to call him on it yet.

         He was worried about Credence, seeing the boy retreat into a silent shell uncertain of his place now that Art had greeted him with a sweet, but shy smile and no recollection whatsoever. She had shivered when he came close, and Credence had taken it wrong, making a quiet excuse to leave the room. Percival had pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and went after him, ignoring the narrow-eyed stare Theseus was aiming at him. That was just one more thing to be added onto his 'talk about later' list.

         When he'd found Credence, he was sitting in a small corner of the deserted waiting room down the hall. The lights had been turned low, but the boy had unconsciously pulled the shadows around him as more camouflage, sending off a low-level stay away vibe that most witches and wizards would take as vaguely threatening. Percival took a seat on the floor next to him, close enough to nearly be touching, but not quite.

        "Just because she doesn't remember you right now doesn't mean that she's not the same person she was before," Percival started quietly, keeping his eyes on the ivy plant charmed to climb the walls and ceiling of the room.

        "Will she still want me," Credence asked in a small voice that made him sound so much younger than he was. The vulnerability in it made Percival's chest go tight. He hesitated, then wrapped his arm around the still too thin shoulders.

        "This is Artemis," he tried for a bit of levity that fell a little flat, "Good luck getting away. Charmingly awkward as she may be, our girl has a heart bigger than she is."

        "What if she doesn't want... what if she..." Credence swallowed hard, "What if she goes back to London with Mr. Scamander and..."

        "If there's anything I know for sure in this whole clusterfuck, it's this: Artemis Scamander will do exactly what Artemis Scamander wants, despite what her brother insists. Sometimes, I think she's contrary just to spite him. Right now, she's a bit off. All we can do is just be there for her and help her to remember that not everything that happened was bad. Right?"           

        Credence nodded after a long hesitation. Percival knew there was something else bothering him, so he held his silence and waited. Finally, they came to the real worry. "What if she doesn't want to stay, and she doesn't want us to go with her?"

        Percival listened to the question within the question and answered honestly, "Then we go ahead anyway. We still have an appointment with the wandmaker in two days, and we have letters to pen about official tutors. If you don't want to be taught by strangers, I still stand by my offer to teach you myself. Tina and Queenie are more than willing to help."

         A shudder went through the young man and Percival closed his eyes, pulling him closer into his side. "No matter what, Credence, you're not going to be cast aside. Not again."

         They fell into silence and Percival couldn't help the ache that had formed at the thought that Art might just disappear without a trace. It wasn't too far out of the realm of possibility. He just had to make sure she didn't have the opportunity before he had a chance to make his case.

*~*~*


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MUCH LOVE! We're getting near the end, here, lovies, only a couple more chapters to go before it's finished! <3 <3 Here's a short but important update, hope you guys know how much it means to be to have you all enjoying this wild ride.

 

*~*~*

        "Theseus, stop." Artemis stood in the doorway of the hotel suite in the wizarding hotel her brother had booked for them once it was clear that she was going to be released from the hospital wing. It was a nice enough place, outfitted with all the trendy magical appointments that were apparently all the rage right now. She hoped the expense wasn't all for her benefit, though she had a sinking suspicion it was.

        They had been there for nearly two days, and at first everything had been all right. She was healing and spending most of her time inside her case, reassuring her creatures and cataloguing any and all changes. When it came to her asking about what happened, her brother clammed up and changed the subject. Within the last day, he'd been making noises about going back home to London. All of this on top of refusing to let anyone else in to see her, including Percival, which she had been itching to see since they had gone their separate ways after she was let go into her brother's custody.

        There was something about his behavior since she'd woken up that told her things had changed significantly between them since she'd arrived in New York. It bothered her that she had essentially lost an entire month, if the dates were correct. He looked at her, and _touched_ her as if he couldn't bear to not. He'd been recently ill, or hurt; she could tell by the way he moved and the paleness to his skin. Theseus bloody well avoided talking about _that_ as well, the bastard. And then there was the poor boy she'd met while still in the hospital bed, Credence. He had looked at her with this intense look of hope that had fallen quickly into a horrible despair when she hadn't recognized him.

        When he had made a small voiced excuse to leave the room, she'd been confused when Percy had kissed the back of her hand, the one he hadn't let go of unless he absolutely had to, to go after him. They had come back, the boy's eyes red-rimmed and visibly upset. It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask then, but the healer assigned to her had come in to assess her fitness to leave and the moment had been lost. She hadn't seen either of them since.

        And now, she had walked in on the tail end of a fire-call conversation where her darling brother was essentially telling Percival that they were leaving for London in the morning and that she didn't want to see him. She glared at Theseus, mouth pressed into a firm line. She may not have all her faculties just yet, but she wasn't a child to be sequestered away. She crossed her arms and directed her words to the floating head in the fireplace.

        "I assume you know where we're staying, Percy. Please come on over, I _do_ want to see you. And I _am bloody well not_ going back to London tomorrow." Theseus winced, but didn't argue when his friend quickly agreed and told them he would be there in an hour.

        When the flames went back to their normal red and orange hue, Artemis felt herself go cold and rigid with anger. She didn't even look at her brother as she turned on her heel and marched into the room she'd taken for the duration. This type of fury happened so seldom that she thought it was prudent to remove herself from the situation before she said or did something she might regret. Unfortunately, Theseus wasn't very good at giving her the time to cool down. He never had been, and to be fair, her bouts with temper were so few and far between, he wasn't accustomed to the warning signs.

        "Art, please, hear me out," he started, following her into the bedroom and watching with arms crossed as she flung open the lid to her case. "Darling, please! I just want-"

        "To keep me locked up and out of harm's way?" He flinched at the carefully enunciated words. She didn't look at him, glaring down at the dark maw of her case. "I'm not a gods-damned doll, Theseus. You can't put me behind glass."

        "I'm not trying-"

         She cut him off, putting one foot in to catch on the first rung of the ladder. "You always mean well, brother, but I don't have to play this game if I don't want to. I deserve the truth, and I deserve the consideration of making my own decisions. Despite the popular assessment of my state of mind and overall capacity for logical reasoning, I am rather talented at taking care of myself. I was under the impression that you saw me as smarter and more capable than everyone else gave me credit for. I did us all a disfavor, it appears."

        Theseus felt his stomach drop with every sharply spoken word accented by a step down into her sanctuary. She still didn't look at him, and when her head had cleared the lid, it slammed down with a decidedly angry thump.

         Percival found him sitting in the chair in Art's room, staring morosely at the closed lid of her case. He was slumped down, arms crossed over his chest, a thundercloud written all across his features. The Scamander pout was in full effect, though if anyone would have pointed it out, Theseus would have argued that it was 'brooding', not pouting.

         "She figured it out, didn't she?"

         "Figured out that I'm a complete arse with boundary problems, you mean?" Theseus didn't look at him, just heaved a sigh and pulled himself upright, planting his forehead in his hands wearily.

         "I think she figured that one out years ago, my friend," Percival told him gently, keeping the bite out of his tone. He moved in and perched at the edge of the bed. The time had come for them to have the conversation that might very well end their friendship. Though by the look on his friend's face, he had a bit more hope that it wouldn't end in bloodshed and one or both of them in the med-ward.

        "When did you fall for her?" Percival blinked at the pointed question, having anticipated being the one to bring up his obvious feelings for Artemis.

        "I think it happened when we were kids," he answered honestly, knowing that he had to tread carefully but not wanting to lie. He searched for the right words. "It grew stronger as we got older, and completely changed and morphed during the war."

        "You never said anything. All of those years you didn't make any sort of move? Why?"

        "She barely tolerated me. When I was there for holiday, she made herself scarce and only came out at meals and once in a blue moon, we would see her out during our adventures. During the war, it was inappropriate. She was too young, and we were in the middle of a goddamn war." He stopped and ran his hands through his hair. He sighed, "She thought I hated her. All those years, she thought that we... that _I_ didn't want her around."

        "What are you going to do about it?"

        Percival blinked and found himself staring into his best friend's eyes, searching for any hint of a trap. Theseus looked resigned and a bit sad, but there wasn't any of the anger Percy had been expecting. The redhead waved his hand and clarified when it seemed like Percival was hesitating. "With my sister. What are your intentions? She's not going to stay here in New York, and she certainly isn't likely to stay in one place _anywhere_ anytime soon. Are you going to follow her? Are you going to stay in one place and let her wander on her own and just come home to you when the mood strikes?"

        In answer, Percival reached into his pocket and pulled out the box with the engagement set he'd been carrying with him since they had discovered her alive in the MACUSA basement. He tossed it to Theseus, who caught it and flipped it open, going very still when he saw what was inside.

        "I resigned from my position at MACUSA," Percival told him quietly. He took an unsteady breath, "I don't want to spring it on her, but-"

        "No," Theseus said firmly, snapping the box closed and tossing it back to the other man. Percival was opening his mouth, temper flaring at the apparent dismissal, when he continued. "Do it now. Don't let her have any time to get any wild ideas in her head, just go in there and talk to her. She's had a shine for you since Merlin-knows-when, she was just too oblivious to see that you loved her back. I just didn't want to see it."

        "'Seus," Percival started, not quite believing what he was hearing.

        Theseus shook his head and held out a hand to forestall any more conversation. He looked very tired all of a sudden, and more than a little depressed. "Listen, I know I haven't been the best brother in the world, but I love my sister. Everything I've done is to try and keep her safe. Apparently, all I've managed is to alienate her and make her believe I think she's incompetent and stupid. I have to let her go, Percy, and I don't want to. It scares the shite out of me, and that's Merlin's truth, right there. But that Tina bird was right, and I'm gonna lose her anyway if I don't bugger off. Just do me a favor, yeah?"

         Percival nodded, not daring to hope that he wasn't hallucinating this entire encounter.

         "Take care of her for me. Do what I couldn't do, and keep her safe."

         "I'll do my very best. You're doing the right thing, Theseus. Whether she accepts or not, you're doing the right thing."

         "I bloody fucking hope so." He paused, and because it wouldn't be Theseus if he didn't, he added, "And I swear by all that is holy, Percival Graves, that if you purposefully hurt my sister, there isn't a force in nature that can stop me from raining hell down on your head. Got me?"

*~*~*

        He could hear loud bangs and felt the very ground under him quake as he stepped out of her tiny shack, and Percival took a moment to center himself before going to face the most important conversation he'd ever initiated in his life. From the sound of things, Artemis was taking out her frustration with her brother on constructing or de-constructing something in the habitats. It was possibly the worst time to approach this, but after Theseus had all but shoved him in the case and muttered that he was 'going for a drink or ten', he had figured it was now or never.

        He spared a thought for his oldest friend, feeling a bit sorry for the other man. It didn't last long, though. Not when he was greeted by the sight of Artemis standing in the middle of the thunderbird's habitat, wand drawn as she tore it apart at the seams. The conjured wind whipped through her short hair, sending the bright strands around her face as she concentrated on unravelling the careful magic she'd incorporated to house the great beast. Any lingering worry about her recovery was squashed and a fine line of pure lust rippled down his core.

        He had rubbed elbows with some of the most beautiful, powerful women in the wizarding world, here at home, and across the ocean. Having a prominent name and parents who pushed the social agenda whenever and wherever they could, had ensured he'd been courted and been encouraged to court the brightest and best their society could offer. They all had paled to the memory of the awkward, gangly girl he'd had in his heart since before he could really remember. He'd turned down offer after offer, and taken lovers with the open disclaimer of no strings. None of them had held the charm and the utter stunning beauty of Artemis Scamander and her unconscious hold on him.

        By the time it was done, all that was left was the open expanse of blue sky, the rest had morphed into what appeared to be an endless grassy field. He swallowed hard, shoved his hands in his pockets, and approached with a wildly beating heart.

        "Do you have any one creature in mind for this one," he asked, and watched her shoulders tighten, then relax.

        She looked over at him with a small, nervous smile. "Not quite yet," she said, a bit shyly. His chest tightened when he remembered that she had no recollection of the time they'd spent over the last month, getting to know each other again. All his hard work convincing her that she really was special to him, all of their conversations, all of the times sleeping curled up around each other- all of it was in his head only.

        He sided up next to her to look out over the expanse, once again awed by the sheer detail in the false setting. She really had created earth and grass, rolling hills, and even a few rocky mounds here and there. He was working up the courage to speak, when she cut him to it.

        "I've been dreaming of you," she admitted, so softly as to be barely above a whisper. His heart stopped for a half-second in his chest before resuming its previous racing pattern. He felt her eyes on the side of his face, and when he turned their eyes locked. "I- I dreamed that you were in a horrible, dark place and you were hurt. I- I rescued you, and you kissed me. Fancy that... it sounds like a strange reversed fairy tale, doesn't it?"

        "You did rescue me," he told her, gaining hope. "And I did kiss you. And I kissed you again after you and Queenie pieced me back together. You held me when I couldn't sleep without you, and your beautiful face was the only thing that kept that madman's voice out of my head."

       Her face went pale, then crimson as she processed what he was saying. Figuring it was now or never, he reached out and took one of her icy hands in his. "I love you, Artemis," he admitted, and the words were heavy on his tongue. He was suddenly happy that he hadn't said it to her before, that he'd been waiting for the right time. "We've already had the conversation where I explained that I never hated you, and that I always thought that you hated me. I'm okay with doing it again, but I'd rather just show you. I don't think I have ever loved anyone else. You stole it away when neither one of us was old enough to know what was happening. All I knew was that this pretty little pixie was like the sunshine itself, and that she was the most amazing creature I'd ever had the luck to come across."

        "B-but," she started to argue, but he cupped the back of her neck gently and brought their lips together. She stiffened and gripped his forearm, fingers biting in, and when he was about to pull away, she seemed to melt into him. Her lips opened under his with a tiny gasp that made his insides go molten. She tasted of peppermint and something sweet, almost like honey. He inhaled her scent even as his other hand slipped over her hip and behind to press against the small of her back, bringing them flush.

        "No," he whispered hoarsely when they pulled apart, "Please, Art. I need you to believe me, honey. I can't... I can't let you go after having you in my life like this. If you need me to slow down and take it easy, I can, but don't pull away. Please, please, don't leave without giving me a chance."

        Her eyes were filling with tears and he held her a little tighter, fear coiling as he thought the worst. This was it. She was going to pull away from him at any time... She surprised him by pressing her mouth to his again, gripping his upper arms to keep him close. Thin shoulders shook with sobs and she whimpered when his hand moved up into her hair.   

        When they broke apart again, she whispered, "If this is a cruel joke, Percival, I swear on Morgana's grave that I'll hex you stupid and never-"

        That gave him pause and he pulled back to search her face. She was absolutely serious, tears cascading down her cheeks even as she avoided looking in his eyes. It seemed like she regretted blurting the words the moment they left her mouth, because she started to pull away from him. He held her tighter, pressing a lingering kiss to the middle of her forehead. Gods, he wanted nothing more than to hunt down every single piece of shit that had ever made her doubt, that had ever played such cruel games, and make them hurt. Right now, he concentrated on convincing her.

        "Artemis, there is absolutely nothing in this world that matters more to me than you," he told her, "There's not enough gold on this continent that could bribe me in playing your affections. I would be willing to penseive my memories of our time here so you can see that this isn't a new thing for me. They're going to pull them for interrogation purposes anyway, we could slip some of them aside and go in together. It would help me to see some of the softer, happier times anyway."

         "I'm sorry," she whispered and he pressed more kisses alongside her eye, then her cheek.

         "No apologies," he whispered back. "Just give me a chance. You don't have to commit to anything right now, just give me a little time to show you?"

         She nodded after a long moment, and he smiled as he took her mouth again, gently and sweetly. All wasn't lost just yet.

*~*~*

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are utterly beautiful and I love you so much! Thank you for all the love you've shown me and this fic! I don't think I'd have come even close to getting this far if you hadn't been so very, very kind. <3 That said, this chapter has epic sexing in it, so if that squicks, head down to the second half where it's all fluff ;) If not... enjoy the sap-laced smut! We're almost at an end, folks. I'm thinking one more chapter to tie it all up. But fear not! I also have a few more shorter fics in mind to go into their adventures post-New York.

 

 

*~*~*

       Breath hitching as she was pressed against the counter of her small kitchen in her case, Artemis wrapped her long legs around Percival's waist when he cupped the backs of her thighs to lift her up. Mouths fused together in a wild, passionate dance, she didn't think she would ever get used to this new intimacy. Idly, she thought that she'd never experienced anything like it before. Not like this, anyway, with every nerve alight with desire, her very being filled with lust and love.

       Oh, gods, did she love him, with her entire heart. The thought hit her like a lightning bolt, just as his mouth found her earlobe and sucked on the tiny diamond earring Theseus had given her for her last birthday. The words sprang to her tongue, and she didn't have the reserve to stop them as they tumbled out in a breathless rush.

       "I love you. Merlin's beard, Percival. I love you so much."

       He froze against her, and her heart stopped in her chest, immediately thinking she'd done something wrong. Squirming, she tried to put some distance between them, tears flooding her eyes. Great. Now she'd done it.

       She knew he had feelings for her, that he cared, that he didn't want her to leave him behind, and he had even said he loved her. But what if he had changed his mind? What if it had merely been a momentary lapse in judgement? Maybe this was what finally pushed him away. Maybe this was when the other shoe dropped and she would be...

       He gripped her ever tighter and when his mouth found hers again, it was with a desperation he'd never possessed with her before. Grinding his hips deeper between the valley of her thighs, she was surprised into an odd groaning-whimper.

      "I need you," he growled into her mouth, and her heart soared.  

      "Then have me," she laughed breathlessly, head spinning from the abrupt emotional leap. "Take me, Percy. Lord and Lady, I want you to-" Her words were cut off by another searing kiss, then they were on the bed she'd transfigured when it was obvious that Percival wasn't going anywhere, even though he had a perfectly good bedroom to himself upstairs in his over-priced flat. This was the first time they would be doing anything more scandalous than sleeping curled up together against the horrid night terrors that still plagued their separate consciousness.

       His hands were suddenly everywhere, on her hips, on her belly, on her breasts. Then they were slipping between her thighs, cupping her sex through the fabric of her trousers. For the first time, perhaps ever, Artemis cursed her aversion to more feminine garb. She fisted her hands in his hair, fingers tightening as his mouth found a sensitive spot just at the hollow of where neck met shoulder. He pulled back just far enough to tug at her blouse, untucking it before drawing it up and off, ignoring the buttons that strained at the rough treatment. That wonderful mouth latched onto her nipple through her camisole, and she gave a shameless cry, arching into him.

       After that, it was a flurry of removing clothing, each item disappearing with an exhalation of discovery. Soon, there was nothing between them but their own skin, the sensations heightening with each passing second. Her breath shuddered as his teeth nipped at a prominent hipbone, his tongue soothing the small pain before traveling further down. Her thighs trembled as he gently parted them, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin. When he found her center, she jolted with a hoarse cry, throwing her head back and gripping his hair tighter. When his fingers pressed in, she fell apart, hips grinding up as he sucked hard at the little bundle of nerves.

      She was tugging at his shoulders, pulling him up over her almost desperately before she was even coming down from the pleasure high. _"Gods_ , Percy, I need you. I need you _in me_ , _"_ she whimpered, latching onto his mouth and tasting herself on his lips. "Please, please, _please."_

      He groaned against her mouth, his fingers still stroking her velvety inside. She bit at his lip and rolled her hips, bringing her thigh in between his legs to rub the thick, neglected length of his erection. "Slow down, sugar. I don't want this to be over too soon."

      She slid her hand between them and stroked, squeezing just tight enough to make his eyes flutter closed and his hips grind into her grip.

      "Gods," he growled against her jawline, "You don't play fair."

      "We've got all bloody night," she answered with a breathless chuckle and moved her legs to encircle his hips, guiding him where she wanted him the most. "I want you to fuck me."

       He shivered at the profanity that dropped so casually from her, hands gliding under the soft curve of her ass to lift her as he slid home in one smooth motion that left them reeling. Her nails bit into his shoulders and she sucked in a hard breath, bucking up into him immediately.

      "Please," she begged against his neck, their torsos pressed together in an almost perfect line. "Please, please, Percy. _Gods_ , I need you to-" the last of her words were lost when he moved, pulling out only to shove back in harder, then repeated the motion again. Long legs wrapped around his waist as they moved together in an increasingly frantic pace.

     "Art, I'm not... _Mercy Lewis, Artemis_. _"_ Percival grit his teeth as she tightened and squeezed around him, the sweet noises she made making his blood boil.

     "No, don't h-ho-hold back," she stammered, one leg disengaging to press into the mattress, lifting her up to meet him even harder. He hooked his fingers behind her knee and drew it up, opening her to go even deeper. "P-Percy, I'm close... fuck. Come along with me... p-please, I want you to..."

      When her body seized up in climax, she raked her nails down and across the lower curve of his spine and the combination of all the sensations drew him in with her. He finished with a few more powerful thrusts, grinding their hips together as he took her mouth again.

      Shaking and humming with energy, Artemis wrapped her arms around him and just held on. When he went to move off her as if to not crush her with his weight, she tightened her grip and kept him where he was. "Not yet," she whispered. "Please, just... not yet."

      Beyond words, he just nodded and shifted so that the bulk of his weight wasn't pressing down on her, then rested his head on her breast, ear pressed to the fast pounding of her heart. As their bodies cooled and the endorphin high faded down, he turned his face into the fragrant stretch of skin, inhaling deep of her scent before pressing his lips to her. She was carding her fingers through the softness of his hair, lulling him and making something deep inside go liquid gold.

       "Marry me," he mumbled into her collarbone, stilling her absent motions. He froze, a shard of panic shooting through him. _Fuck_. That was _not_ what he wanted to say. It wasn't the right time. It wasn't the right place. He'd had everything mapped out in his head, going as far as to collaborate with Credence on what would be the best approach. The poor teenager had been completely lost at the question at first, taken aback by the very concept of _Mr. Graves_ coming to _him_ for help with something so mundane. After a while, he'd warmed up to it and even seemed to be more comfortable with his role in their lives at the blatant reminder that Percival was, in fact, just as human and insecure as everyone else.

      "What was that," she asked softly, going very, very still.

      Taking a fortifying breath, Percival closed his eyes briefly, then raised up to look at her. "Marry me, Artemis. I- this is not how I'd planned to ask. Really, I had a speech all ready and had called about a dozen places, even drug poor Credence around with me to check out Central Park to scope out spots near the water. I love you. I think I've always loved you, and I can't stand the thought of not having you at my side."

       Eyes more amber than green in the dim candlelight searched his face intently as his heart tripped in his chest and he started to feel a bit sick. He couldn't take the words back. Just when he was readying himself to pull away from her, she smiled that amazing smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes and made her face just shine.

       "I trust that by now you know what you're getting into," she said with a glint of humor, "But, yes. Yes, Percival, I will marry you. Just know that you can't take it back. You'll be stuck-"

       He cut her words off with an ecstatic kiss that melted all the last bit of tension that lingered between them. As it devolved into a more passionate embrace, and they melded back into one, Percival knew that this had been the better choice than Central Park, swans or no swans.

*~*~*

       "Credence, can you come here for a moment?" Credence froze at the soft call that came from inside the open habitat where the bowtruckles, demiguise, and niffler all held their trees and nests. He had been helping Ms. Scamander and Percival inside the case for the last three weeks, at first unsure of his place and what to do, despite already knowing his way around the animals. It got easier from moment to moment, especially when he realized that Mr. Graves- _Percival_ , he had to remember to call his new guardian by his given name- was right and that she was still the same person she was before.

        The awkwardness faded out quickly for all of them; Artemis blossoming with excitement when she realized that both he and Percival knew their way around her case. It was a beautiful thing to witness, seeing her smile and clap her hands in delight as they stood in front of the nundu habitat and watched the giant feline make a purring lunge for the young man. Aggie had taken an instant liking to Credence, mothering him and grooming him whenever he sat still long enough, much to Percival's discomfort. He knew Aggie was much more harmless than her wild counterparts, but it was still hard for him not to cast a protective bubble around the young man and separate the two.

       At the moment, Credence was finishing up feeding the mooncalves, having taken responsibility for them eagerly because of their soothing gentleness. They were always happy to swarm him when he came into their enclosure, bleating in their ever-sleepy way as he went through them to give loving pats and sweet words along with their pellets. He gave Daisy, one of the super affectionate calves, another vigorous ear rubbing before leaving with the empty bucket.

        He stowed the bucket on the hook where it belonged, though Artemis wasn't too picky on where it went as long as it was in the general direction of the shed and easily found for the next feeding. Credence couldn't bring himself to be messy, having had it beaten out of him at a very early age. Between him and Percival, they had started slowly and unobtrusively organizing and sorting the natural chaos that was Artemis's inner sanctuary. It was almost as if by unconscious communication, the two males had moved toward the same goal. Which was to make things more habitable without being obvious about it. So far, it seemed to be working beautifully, and Art seemed to follow their example without putting any thought to it.

        As he came around the corner and into the main habitat area, he couldn't stop the smile that briefly crossed his lips at the sight of Artemis standing so close to Percival, the older man's arm around her slim waist. They were almost the same height, with Art being just a hair taller, but she seemed almost delicate next to Percival's bulk, leaning into him as they looked in on the occamy nest, which had the rapidly growing chicks happily coiled up around each other. Well, Art was looking in at the chicks, and Percival was watching _her_ with the softest expression Credence had ever seen on a man's face. It was gentle and loving, so utterly besotted that it almost didn't seem real.

       He was lost in watching them, so didn't see Horace as the little menace darted in front of him, tripping up his feet and sending him sprawling. He hit the dirt with a soft 'ooph' that brought attention over to him, and before he knew it, Artemis was there helping him up with a strong but tender grip.

       She dusted him off absently, while admonishing the black furred niffler, who didn't look at all sorry as he wiggled his bill and disappeared into the trees. "Horace! Really, you misbehaving cretin. Credence, are you all right? That was quite the tumble."

        Cheeks flaming, he simultaneously wanted nothing more than to either melt into the floor and disappear, or melt into the light motherly concern that always seemed to come out when Art was interacting with him. His story had come out not too long after Percival had convinced her to stay with them in his town home while the investigation into Grindlewald's actions was being taken care of. He hadn't wanted her to know; he hadn't wanted to change how she saw him, still afraid that she would react differently. She had taken him under her wing before, she had understood, and she had accepted him, darkness and all. He hadn't needed to worry about it. She had repeated the same mantra she had before, then moved into a long-winded narrative on obscurials and how she'd done extensive research after the disaster in the Sudan.

       Hearing her fall into unconscious 'lecture mode' had eased so much of the tension that had gathered in his spine. She wasn't going to treat him like a child. There was a level of sympathy, but no pity. No, Artemis seemed to see him as capable and strong despite of his abusive past. She was aware of his triggers, but didn't move over-cautiously. She and Percival dealt with things from moment to moment, day to day. Just like they were dealing with the aftermath of their own traumas.

       Meeting Percival's twinkling eyes over Art's shoulder, he saw a reassuring, if indulgent upward twist of his usually solemn mouth. Credence froze up for a moment, realizing that _this_ is what a family felt like. Having a real mother and a father... like in some of the stories he would read in the smuggled books he and Modesty would read when Ma... when Mary Lou was asleep. He had seen pictures in the magazine ads, drawings of the "all-American dream family" and he'd thought it was a scam. No one looked at each other like that, not even the parents he saw that weren't hurtful to their children. He hadn't understood it before, thinking that it was just a storybook thing; a commercial thing to sell people stuff. He suddenly felt his chest get tight and a certain unwelcome rush of tears. Before he realized it, he was throwing his arms around Artemis and burying his face in her neck with a choked sob.

       She stiffened in surprise, but before he could pull away again, she wrapped her arms around his back and held on tightly. "Shh, darling, it's all right," she said softly into his hair as she stroked his back. "It's all right."

       When the storm passed, he felt oddly empty as he pulled back to wipe at his face. Artemis cupped his cheeks in her hands and soothed the warm damp with her thumbs, amber-green eyes searching his solemnly. She must have seen something in him that eased her worry, because she smiled sweetly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. How had he survived so long without her, he wondered? Maybe all of this was a dream. Maybe he was really dead and this was his path after? The thought wasn't as alarming as it should have been. At least he had right now, and if it was his afterlife, then Mary Lou had been wrong.

        "Do you feel better," Artemis asked him gently, pulling back completely now, but took one of his hands in hers. She'd gotten a lot easier with casual touch in the weeks they'd been living together. At least with him and Percival it had become less of an awkward dance and more of a natural thing. While they were still in New York, she rarely went outside, and the few times Credence had seen her interact with strangers, it was like night and day. She was jumpy and stilted, movements awkward as she tried to keep herself apart from the crowd.

        The Goldstein sisters had come to them, infiltrating Percival's home with sweet smells and laughter as they renewed their friendship with Artemis under her brother's slightly disapproving stare. She had been even slower to accept the women, but Queenie's bubbly warmth and Tina's endearing eager awkwardness eventually won her over and she relaxed into having friends.

        Now Theseus was back to London, finally leaving after another intense conversation with Artemis and Percival, leaving instructions for them to owl if... well, if anything. If they took off on their travelling, if they decided to come to London after all, if anything popped up with Grindlwald's supporters, if Artemis had a bad turn with her memories... If she missed him. Credence thought it was beautiful that Mr. Scamander cared so much for his sister. He hadn't had that kind of love in his life before. The closest he'd come was with Modesty, and that was more him protecting her because he knew she was too young for the full brunt of their mother's wrath. Chastity had turned into a cold monster almost as bad as Ma... at least she had before they'd been rescued and turned over to the no-maj child services system where they had been adopted into a loving family.

       Percival, knowing how much it bothered him to leave his sisters in the care of a system that had failed them before, had pulled some strings in the background and made certain that the girls were together and happy. Chastity, at fifteen, was almost too old to find a family, but the older wizard had pulled it off. She was now going to a good school and was slowly blossoming into a young woman without shadows under her eyes.

        And Credence had a family too. His smile was small, but it lit up his face as he nodded shortly at Art's question. He couldn't quite bring himself to speak, but she didn't need for him to talk to get what he was saying.

       "Now, we... Percival and I, we have some news," she said, without letting his hand go. Percival rested his chin on her shoulder casually and grinned at him, winking conspiratorially. Credence found himself grinning back, an unfamiliar emotion expanding in his stomach and chest. He finally asked! He'd known Percival had the rings, and had been carrying them forever. He had confided in Credence that he was waiting for the very perfect time. _"The last thing I want is to flub this up."_ The older man's uncomfortable insecurity had made him more human in Credence's eyes, and it had eased out the last of the lingering comparison to the Not-Graves he'd interacted with before.

       "And I- _we_ have a question for you," Artemis continued, her words tumbling faster as nerves got the better of her. She looked at his collar intently, "It's o-okay for you to say no, I- _we_ would understand, we're not the most _traditional_ of families, but we-"

       Percival chuckled softly and kissed her temple. "Honey, you haven't told him anything, or asked him."

       "Oh," she looked a bit startled, a soft blush rising in her cheeks and Credence hadn't thought that his affection for her could grow any bigger. Her eyes darted up to his, then over his face and away, "Well, then. Credence, my sweet, sweet boy, Percival has asked me to marry him and I said yes."

        She turned their linked hands over so he could see the beautiful gold and diamond engagement ring that had been magically resized to fit her dainty fingers. It sparkled in the dim light, and he could almost feel the weight of happy ages wrapped around the precious metal and stone. Where Percival's own mother had changed the stones from rubies to emeralds, Artemis had chosen simple, clear diamonds. It was much less pretentious than he remembered seeing it in the box, and it fit her so very well.

        "We're actually planning on marrying away from the public eye. Or as much as possible," Artemis was saying now, her smile going a bit tremulous. "Only our closest friends and dearest family."

        "We would like to formally adopt you at the same time," Percival said, his dark gaze locking on Credence's. "There are two ways we could do this. In name only, which would give you the protection of the Graves name, and us the privilege of officially calling you ours. And blood adoption, which would be a magic binding ritual that would physically make you the equivalent of our firstborn. You would become the heir to the House of Graves, and no one would ever have the balls to refute or argue. You would take on some of our traits, changing your bloodline to match mine and Art's."

        Credence felt a little light-headed and wavered on his feet. "You... you would... you would really want to," he asked breathlessly. _You would really want to dirty your bloodline with something like me?_ He didn't say the last bit aloud, knowing that it would upset Artemis. But they seemed to know what he was thinking, because Artemis pulled him in for another hard hug, Percival's arms going around the both of them.

        "I'm the odd hippogriff in the herd, too," Artemis said against his shoulder with a little sniff. "Believe me, Cree, I was asking Percival the same thing. The Scamander name is as pureblood as it comes, and I'm a disgrace to all but Theseus- and I think even he's thought of tossing me off a cliff face a time or two."

        "Shush to both of you," Percival said, one large hand coming back to cup the back of Credence's head, and the other coming to rest on Artemis's hip. "I wouldn't trade either of you for the world."

        When they pulled apart again, the older man looked at him solemnly, "What do you say, Credence? Are you brave enough to tie yourself to a couple of outcast lunatics who have no map or compass?"

        That wasn't the reason for his hesitance, he wanted to say. No map and no compass sounded like a fantasy come true, and he'd often dreamed of joining them in far off places where no one knew him and no one looked at him like he was... He wanted it so badly it hurt. But did they know what they were getting into? Didn't they realize that the swirling evil wasn't gone? As much work as they had done in teaching him ways of using his magic safely, finding a compatible wand, which had been far more difficult than even he had ever imagined, and working with wandless magic, he could still feel that destructive nastiness just under his skin. Sometimes at night, when Mary Lou's voice was the loudest in his head, he could feel his edges blur with remembered pain and fury.

        They were welcoming a monster into their very bloodlines, taking him as a _son._ A _real son_ that was as good as birthed from their flesh and blood. His attention was brought back to Artemis, and he scanned her beautiful, freckled face. She would be his mother. A real mother. Eyes tearing up, he watched hers go wide with sympathy and then he was tucked back against the thin curve of her neck, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

        "You can take your time, love," she murmured tenderly, and he took in a shuddering breath.

        He shook his head, and hated himself for not being stronger. "No, I want... Are you sure you want me?"

        "Of course we do," Artemis assured him, running her fingers through his hair soothingly. It had grown out during his time with them, thick and soft with a wave that curled around the tips and backs of his ears and neck. "Hopefully you've gotten to know us a bit through this last month... And I just realized that it hasn't really been that long at all. No wonder you... Credence, you don't have to agree just because you feel you need to please us. If you need more time, that is more than acceptable. We're not going to change our minds. Though we- Percival and I are keen to be married within the year. The blood adoption ceremony doesn't have to be done at the same time, and neither does the-" 

        "Art, sweetheart, breathe," Percival ordered, a hint of humor in his voice. "I don't think that's the issue. Is it Cree?"

        When Credence cast his eyes down to the ground and shook his head, the other wizard sighed and suggested, "Let's go make some coffee and tea and talk, all right? I think Jacob brought some of those lemon poppyseed cookies the last time he was here."

        "I believe Dougal got into the last of those _biscuits_ , but there is still gingerbread in the tin hidden behind the potion stores."

        "You put _food_ behind the potion bottles?" Credence couldn't help the amusement that bubbled up at the scandalized tone that crept into Percival's voice as he was tugged along toward the kitchen area.

        "Honestly, Percy, don't look at me that way. It's the safest place for them. Dougal and Horace both know that the potions are off limits, so they aren't going to attempt any sort of heist. They're in corked bottles, and the biscuits are in the tin. We're not going to be poisoned."

        As he watched Percival shake his head and sigh, Credence knew. He just knew that this was where he belonged.

*~*~*


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Thank you guys for the beautiful feedback you've been giving on this! Thank you for pointing out that it seemed as if I glossed over their trauma and rebuilding. <3 So... here's a chapter to address that, and I hope I integrated it well enough. SO MUCH LOVE!

*~*~*

        He hated to be the one to push her. He hated to see those brilliant eyes dull just a little and go shuttered as she looked away, at anything but him. He _hated_ the quiver of her lip before she pressed them together in an unhappy line.

        Things had been going better than he had expected it to, despite his daily sojourns into the MACUSA office to help sort through the mess Grindlewald had left. Seraphina had accepted his resignation on the condition that he help with the immediate sorting and rebuilding. He had come back with a set time limit of two months, after discussing it with Artemis, who agreed that it would be best for them to stick around to do whatever they could to minimize fallout.

        He hadn't put any of it together until very recently, and he blamed himself for being so focused on getting as much done as possible so they could get on with their lives. He had put off her behavior as adjusting, as her usual introverted way of setting herself apart. The dreams woke both of them in the middle of the night in cold sweats, where one or both would gasp and shake awake. The mind healers had told them that she would have nightmares, that she may or may not remember them when she woke up. They had suggested a journal to write down everything she _did_ remember from them and it would help piece it together. The trouble was, Artemis had no desire to retain those memories, and no one was encouraging her to.

        "Percival had conveniently forgotten that she was very, very sly and talented at internalizing and avoiding when she felt she would be a burden. When she awoke screaming, she burrowed into him in the night, and deflected when he asked her about it later. When Queenie had taken him aside and confided with a sad, almost guilty frown, that he needed to ask her about her memories, he hadn't had any sort of excuse for himself.

       "Talk to her, Percy," Queenie had said, resting a hand on his arm. She smiled, "Don't be vague or overly gentle. Be blunt and don't give her any room to wiggle out of talking to you."

       After letting his friend's words stew through his day and into the evening, he had come home and found his fiancé in her sanctuary. She was sitting at her table, stacks of notebooks and loose papers all around as she copied everything into a cohesive manuscript. Her fingers were stained with ink, and he noted the way the light of her oil lamp highlighted the freckles that crossed her nose and cheeks. Her lower lip was sucked into her mouth and she worried it between her teeth absently.

        Now that he was looking for it, he noticed the heightened security of her surroundings. Not that she had been lax before, far from it. This suitcase of hers had been inlaid with some of the highest caliber wards he had ever seen, something that she sheepishly allowed, when asked, that she'd had help from an old professor and her brother to accomplish. A protective Theseus was certainly not a new concept. But now, he noted the presence of natural security measures, ones that he wasn't sure were there before. Her wand was in its holster on her arm, which he _knew_ wasn't a normal occurrence when she was safely in her environment. He tried to remember seeing her without it in the last couple months and couldn't think of any. He sighed when he realized it was even near her while she showered or slept.

        That alone should have been a red flag of epic proportions, being that before this whole mess, he remembered Theseus writing a rant about wand responsibility and that nifflers shouldn't be allowed to hoard it in their nests, no matter how easy it was to go retrieve it when you needed it. The swooping evil was casually tucked into her sleeve, which apparently wasn't a new thing, but as he watched, Art ran her fingers under the edge of her cuff and stroked the hard shell of the brain-sucking creature. Dougal was skulking nearby, invisible as he kept watch. The demiguise was intuitive to the extreme, and had been increasingly hyper-vigilant, not going very far from Art's side, though keeping himself invisible as if to have the maximum advantage. 

        Even now, sitting so serenely and working on her text, he could see the tightness to her shoulders and spine.

        How could he have overlooked this?

        "I can feel you staring at me," Art's voice held warm amusement as it carried over to him softly. She set aside her quill, a little too carefully, and smiled over at him in greeting. He wondered how long she knew he was there without saying anything.

       "Hope I didn't bother you," he said, approaching to kiss her properly. She leaned up into him, snaking her hand around the back of his neck to hold him in place when he would have pulled back. Opening up to him, she seemed to lose some of the tension she'd been carrying as she returned his kiss.

       "No bother," she murmured, finally pulling back. "Credence is off with Tina for the day and it's just me down here. It's good to have someone else around for a bit."

       That gave him an opening, and even though it made his stomach tight with anxiety, Percival pulled a chair over so he could sit next to her. This wasn't going to be easy. He'd thought about what to say and how to approach it for a couple days now, just observing her behavior for himself.

       In the end, all the easy ways of opening communication failed, and he ended up taking her hand and asking her gently, "You've been starting to remember, haven't you?"

      She froze and her hand squeezed his tightly. Her eyes flew over his face, settled on his eyes briefly, then went to settle on their joined hands.

      "Honey, you don't have to hide it, it's okay. The healers-"

      "I know," Art interrupted and he felt like a complete asshole at the tight, miserable sound she made. "Everyone's been watching me so careful, waiting for me to fall apart. I didn't want to remember, Percy. It was good to have that soft, blank spot in my mind, even if it meant that I forgot the good parts too. I don't remember all of it, and I don't know what's real and what's just manufactured nightmares. I- I just didn't want to have to speak of it out loud. I'm sorry."

      "Oh, sweetheart, come here," Percival said and tugged on her hand, pulling her over into his lap. As she settled in, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. "First, don't apologize. I'm not upset. How could I be upset? You've dealt with things on your own for as long as I can remember. Instinctually, you're just doing what you've always done. Second, you don't have to protect anyone. I think at this stage, we know more about what happened than you do- memories or not. Keeping it in is just going to hurt more. You need to get it out, to sort through it to see what _is_ real, and what isn't. There won't be any lies to protect you, there won't be any coddling, and there won't be any backlash for being human. All right?"

       "Percy," she said, almost as if she were going to protest. He cut her off with a tender squeeze.

       "Would you tell Credence to keep his nightmares to himself?"

       "What? No!" She sounded so scandalized that Percival smiled and kissed the skin beside her eye.

       "Would you tell me not to seek you out for comfort after a hard day of looking at what Grindlewald has done to my life, to my workplace, and to my friends?"

      "Absolutely not! Percival, that is the most absurd-" She pulled back to stare at him, incredulous. When she saw his face, the rest of what she was going to say faded away and she slumped in defeat, understanding his point.    

       "So why should you expect us to turn you away?"

       She squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking out the corners to run down her cheeks. He made a soothing sound and pulled her back in, cradling her against his chest. Artemis buried her face in his neck and it was as if a dam had broken. He realized that he hadn't seen her really break down since she had settled in outside of the hospital. A few tears here and there, mostly after waking from a night terror, but nothing like this. His heart ached and he felt his own eyes well up at the thought of her holding onto this so tightly.

       "Do you trust me," he asked her softly.

       "O-of course I do," she whispered brokenly. "M-more than anyone else."

       "Then let me in, baby. Please?"

       She nodded, and hung onto him as she cried it out.

*~*~*

       "We're going shopping."

       Artemis stared at the sweetly smiling image of her friend, blinking slowly as she tried to figure out if she was joking or serious. Standing there in a smart and sleek blouse and skirt, Queenie looked like she'd just stepped off a fashion advert for Witch's Weekly. Art glanced down at her ink stained hands and ragged clothing with a raised eyebrow. She'd gone straight from tending her creatures to sitting down to edit, and there were questionable rips and stains that weren't exactly proper for being out in public.

       "I'm not necessarily dressed for a day in town," Artemis protested weakly, already knowing that the other woman was on a mission and not going to take no for an easy answer. She didn't know if it was a conspiracy to try and force her to interact with the outside world more, or if it was just Queenie wanting a shopping buddy.

       "That's fine, sweetie, we can fix that easy enough, right? It's still early, so I can dig around your closet while you shower. We can grab lunch out, it'll be great!"

        Great wasn't necessarily what Artemis would label it, but seeing the excitement on Queenie's face at the prospect of a day out, she couldn't say no.

        "Honey, you can say no anytime," Queenie told her kindly, but her grin widened as she saw Art setting aside her notes and putting the stopper on the top of the inkwell.

        "No, I think it will be good for me to get out for a bit." Percy had been trying to convince her to come along with him to MACUSA for a day, just to get her out of her case and around people again. He'd pointed out that his office was one of the most secure areas in the building, and with Tina there as a familiar face, it wouldn't be as awkward as she feared. He'd urged her to bring her manuscript and notes, that it would be easy enough to set up a work space for her. Credence had been shadowing Jacob, helping with setting up the bakery storefront Artemis had slyly gifted him the occamy shells to finance. It had been enough to set up in a very good area of the city, far away from the now-demolished church where the young man had spent the majority of his childhood.

       It worried Percival that she was alone so much, which was sweet but entirely unnecessary. Alone wasn't a new concept for her, in fact there were times in her recent past where she'd gone a couple months without speaking to another human being during her travels. This new world of seeing others on the daily was at times a bit restricting and she found herself itching to break away to somewhere... else.

       As she followed Queenie upstairs and into the luxurious bathroom in Percival's flat, she wondered how her fiancé would react if she asked to go ahead of him on her... on _their_ travel route. She had been reading into the magical wildlife surrounding the northwestern part of the states, a relatively uncharted area of dense forest and mountains. It seemed a veritable gold mine of discoveries waiting to be poked at. There wasn't much on the record books about the infamous Cascade Mountains, except for muggle folklore about something they called 'bigfoot'. She wondered if it was like the yeti she'd encountered in the Swiss mountains, and felt a tingle of excitement at the prospect.

       As she washed her hair and ducked her head under the stream of hot water, she knew that she didn't want to leave without Percival at her side. The lovely man had completely burrowed deep into her heart, and with so much upheaval she knew it would be too difficult for either of them to be separated for long. If she wasn't leaving him _here_ , in New York where they were still keeping Grindlewald in custody until trial, it might not be such a terrible thought. If, say, he were in Amsterdam while she was in the mountains, it would be a much easier concept. Her heart tripped just at the thought. She clutched the soapy cloth tight as the thought of him even in the same building as that madman raced through her mind.

       Art had been pushing that knowledge down, keeping it separate so that it wouldn't overwhelm. As it washed over her now, she froze up and squeezed her eyes closed as fear crashed into her solar plexus. Suddenly finding herself short of breath, she rested a hand against the shower tiles and tried to talk herself through the now familiar panic. Grindlewald was in the very secure holding cells of the most powerfully warded buildings in the United States. Highly trained and vetted aurors from both the British Ministry and MACUSA were in attendance to keep him there. Percival was... Percival was...

       All of that security and knowledge and power hadn't stopped him before. _Merlin's Beard_ , he was there without backup. Theseus was in London, and Tina was just one trusted friend in a building of strangers. How did Artemis know that there weren't more of the dark lord's plants in the ranks? How did anyone know? It hadn't been that long since it had all come to light. What if they missed someone? Oh... oh, this was bad.

       The knock on the door, though light, was enough to startle her, and she knocked shampoo bottles and soaps off the shelf to clatter to the porcelain tub. "Art? Sweetie, you okay in there?"

        It took a moment for her to get her voice to work, and she gave up when she heard a second knock and a, "I'm coming in, honey."

       Before she knew it, she was being bundled into a warm towel and hugged tight against a sweet-smelling shoulder. The minute Queenie's arms were around her, she went completely rigid despite the crying shudders, her teeth clenching down on the fears she wanted to confess. She knew that the other woman could hear them in her thoughts, that nothing was really secret for long. A part of her hated herself for this weakness, for this illogical jump. And a part of her hated Queenie just a little for being there to witness it.

       She wanted Percy. Suddenly and wholeheartedly, she wanted to be where he was. It made her cry harder knowing that she would be interrupting his day if she were to call for him, that in this weakness she couldn't have what she desperately needed. She wasn't going to be that kind of partner. She _wasn't_.

       "None of that," Queenie told her firmly, stroking her wet hair back. "I've already called him, honey. Now, don't be mad at me."

       Artemis jerked back and wiped at her face with shaking hands and tried to swallow down the spiraling upset. "No, Queenie, I don't... Please, go tell him... go make sure... _Merlin, I don't..."_

       "Yes, you do. Honey, it ain't a weakness to need somebody. Percy'd be more upset if I _didn't_ call for him, and no offence, he's scarier than you are."

       "Y- you shouldn't," her voice cracked and she buried her face in her hands, taking a seat on the edge of the tub as her legs threatened to buckle under her.

       "Yes, she should." Artemis let out an audible hiccupping sob when she heard Percival's voice cut in, hunching her shoulders more in humiliation when he gently replaced Queenie in the bathroom with her. She felt him kneel in front of her and take her hands to draw them away from her face. She resisted, tensing up as if to fight with him, before melting and surging forward and into him. They both landed on the wet bathroom floor in a tangle of limbs, and she finally started babbling out all the fears that had been circling viciously through her head.

       Percival just let her get it out, holding tighter when she would have pulled away at one point. He didn't say anything until she'd purged all of it and slumped against him, exhausted. Then he slowly levered them to their feet, managing not to loosen his grip as he guided her into his bedroom where he gently eased her into the soft bedding and magicked his clothes to the laundry before joining her.

      "There's still a lot left to do," he started softly, then shushed her when she immediately stirred as if to argue. "Shh, hear me out. There's still a lot left to do, and it's gonna take a lot longer than another month to wade through it all. I've already been talking with Sera about doing some behind the scenes work outside of MACUSA. She's contacting MOM as we speak to get more reinforcements from London. I think we need to leave, to go somewhere else. It was a mistake to think that we could work on getting ourselves back to normal when it's in our faces all the time."

       "Percy-"

       "Art, please, honey, it's not just what this is doing to you that made up my mind. I'm having problems too. Knowing that the man that held and tortured me for months is just a couple floors down is hell on my state of mind. I think about what ifs all the time, and I sit in my office behind wards that would make Ilvermorny's look like child's play, my wand at the ready just in case. I don't want to keep living like that. The only thing that was stopping me was... I don't know. I don't know what was stopping me from doing the right thing. We need to go. Anywhere but here."

       "But what about Credence? He's been so happy helping Jacob with the bakery." The protest was only half-hearted, because they both knew that the dark- haired boy was just as anxious to leave as they were.

       Percival didn't bother that with an answer. He maneuvered so that instead of spooning the back of her, she was under him, looking up. "I know you wanted to get married in a simple spring ceremony, but what do you think about a quicker one? I could arrange for the paperwork and firecall the people that are important. It could be set up for this weekend. We can plan from there."

       Artemis blinked up at him, a bit overwhelmed by how quickly things had escalated and changed. In a span of less than an hour, she'd gone from dreading a shopping trip to a life-altering discussion. She searched his face, looking for anything that might hint that he was doing this just to placate her fears. She saw nothing but love and concern and a bit of honest pleading.

       His face split into a beautiful, dimpled smile when she said, "I need to owl Theseus."


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the very reason I keep writing. Seriously, I've been having a very, very hard time finding my muses on any kind of creative venture. Seeing how many of you are enjoying this makes me try harder, so thank you. <3 That said, I figured at least a couple more chapters of this was in order. Parts of this chapter contain and confront full on emotional abuse, so be warned.

 

       The moment Percival looked up from his desk to see Theseus in his office, he knew he wasn't going to like whatever was going to come out of his friend's mouth. The tall redhead looked like he'd swallowed something horrible and he was about to be sick. Pale and guilty, he collapsed into the black leather sofa and immediately buried his face in his hands.

       "What did you do, Theseus? Mercy Lewis, man, if you did something to upset Art right before our wedding, I'll hex you stupid-"

       "You have to help me minimize the fallout, Percy," Theseus interrupted, fixing him with a wide, almost panicked look in his eyes. "I wasn't the one that spilled it, and when the son of a bitch came to me, I told him he had no right to interfere. He threw away that right when he bloody well disowned her."

       "Woah, hold up," Percival held up a hand. "Start from the beginning. Who are you talking about?"

       "My father decided he wants to be a father after all. He caught word of your wedding being pushed forward, which made him jump to the conclusion that it's because Art got herself knocked up, and he has a few things to say about it." Theseus heaved a breath. "Apparently, he's been keeping tabs on the papers to make sure she's not been dragging the family name through the wringer and when the announcements came through for your first wedding date, he did some research into American wizarding families. The bastard finally approves of Art's life choices. Namely, having the Graves family linked as an in-law is a political boon that could help him in his business and with keeping a good face with the ministry pecking order. Having me in as the director of magical security had been a bloody miracle to his status. Having a free-spirit daughter that had been nearly expelled from her schooling and refused every marriage proposal he negotiated so hard for hadn't been as much of a good thing, you see. Now, he's afraid of what others will say now that you two are changing the date so suddenly."

       Theseus closed his eyes and shook his head, heaving a sigh, "I just don't want my father to come and push his way into the proceedings and ruin the biggest event of my sister's life so far. Art's happy, Perce. I don't think I've ever seen her this content. All the Grindlewald shite aside, she loves you. She loves Credence. The papers got ahold of that too, by the way. This blood adoption thing has him in a strop, more than the particulars of the ceremony."

       Percival bristled, his scowl deepening. "None of this is of his concern."

       "I know that, you know that, hell, everyone knows that." Theseus waved his hand, irritated.    

       "Is he planning on coming here to speak with Art?"

       "I believe he's coming here to speak with _you_. Being the bastard he is, he wouldn't deign to speak to his _female_ child about the choices she's made. He'll want to speak with the man taking over control of her."

       "Mercy, 'Seus." Percival felt sick at the very implications. "There's nothing about control in how Art and I operate. There never has been. I'd no more want to control her than-"

       "Calm down, Percy, I know that," Theseus interrupted again before the other man could get up a full head of steam going. It was a sore spot with them both, and that made any lingering doubts Theseus had about his sister marrying his fellow auror dissipate. He'd had a while to sit with the idea, and he knew that there weren't any hidden agendas with Percival. The man genuinely adored Artemis in a way that was incredibly rare.

       Theseus thought of the Malfoy marriage proposal his father had finagled before Art had even finished her Hogwarts education and felt that familiar distaste. The Malfoys were a proper pureblood family with a lot of pull, and Theseus was over the moon with relief that Art had put an end to the nonsense before it got too far, no matter how much it cost her. He knew that if she would have been bullied into marriage with that family, he would have been attending her funeral within a year. The thought of it made his chest hurt.

       "What do I need to do," Percival was asking now, rubbing at his temples tiredly. "I can't avoid the son of a bitch, and I certainly don't want Art to have to deal with him."

       "Deal with who?" The men looked up, startled, at Artemis as she slowly closed the door to Percival's office behind her. She'd managed to slip in without either of them knowing, and she frowned at the deer in the headlights look that crossed both their faces. "And don't try to pull one over on me."

       "Why don't you sit-"

       "No. Theseus, I thought we were over you coddling me."

       "I'm not- Art, listen, this is something..."

       "Honey, come here," Percival soothed, taking her hand to lead her over to the sofa where Theseus quickly vacated his spot to let them sit. He moved to lean against Percival's desk, crossing his arms over his chest a little defensively.

        "You're both worrying me." Artemis frowned, but allowed her fiancé to gather her close and take her hands. "What's going on?"

        "Father got wind of your marriage," Theseus said finally, his eyes searching her face. To his surprised relief, she just looked a little confused. She wasn't immediately upset, just a bit startled.

        "And why would that constitute a visit," she asked when it seemed like her brother was hesitating too long. "He made it abundantly clear two years ago- almost three now- that I wasn't of consequence. It was a matter of 'good riddance' as far as I was made aware."

       "Art, love, I-" Theseus hesitated again and tried to bite back on the contempt rising in the back of his throat for the man that had raised them. The man that had been a father to one, and a terror for the other. He rubbed at his face, cleared his throat, and tried again. "I'm sorry. He came to me a couple days ago, grilling me about your engagement and the wedding plans that had changed so rapidly. The Daily Prophet got wind of it, and now it's all over the place at home. There's speculation on the reasoning why you two are marrying so quickly."

      Artemis frowned and shook her head, looking over at Percival briefly before back at her brother. "Why would that be of consequence? I'm the disowned daughter, the outcast that has always been on the fringes of what is proper in our society. Really, a short engagement isn't going to be that big of a scandal. No one here seems to think badly of us for it, do they?"

      Percival shook his head and kissed the back of her hand. "No, sweetheart, they don't. And even if they did, they're not important."

      She looked for a moment as if she wanted to ask exactly _who_ might have an issue with their short engagement, but left it alone to look back to Theseus. "The people here have accepted me much easier than the folks at home ever have. Why would our father's opinion mean much to me when I have other, more important things to focus on?"

      "Art, he's made noise about coming out here to speak with Percival."

      "Why?" Artemis looked even more confused. She looked over at Percival, her frown deepening. Then she looked back to Theseus. "Is he going to try and convince Percy that I'm not a good match? I don't know why he would do such a thing. I know he doesn't think well of me, and he never has, but I think that's carrying it a bit far."

      Theseus looked very uncomfortable, shifting in place and uncrossing his arms to grip the edge of the desk behind him. "He's not coming to try and talk Percival out of marrying you. I think he wants to make a political connection. When he came to speak with me, he was speaking of-"

       Artemis tensed up and shook her head the moment he said, "political connections." Theseus held out a hand to stop her immediate protest.

       "Darling, that's what I was speaking with Percy about, to give him some kind of head's up. I knew this would upset you, so I wanted to try and protect you from it. You're already dealing with a lot, and I don't want that bloody bastard to ruin your wedding. You deserve this happiness. You deserve this day to be nothing but the brightest. He can't just pop in after a lifetime of setting you aside, only to try and reap the rewards of a Merlin-be-damned legacy. I won't let him. Percy won't let him."

      "I appreciate-," Artemis started, already pulling away from the both of them, physically distancing herself from where Percival was holding her tight to his side. Her face had smoothed out, though tears were starting to fill her eyes.

      "Oh, no, you don't," Percival said and tugged her right back in. "You're not taking this on yourself. It's our turn to protect you. We didn't do it before, when we were kids and didn't know any better. It's time to make it right. Please let us, Artemis?"

       The tears overflowed then, and Artemis allowed Percival to pull her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

*~*~*

       "I kindly ask you to remove yourself from my office, Mr. Scamander." Percival barely glanced up at the older man that had been shown in by the temporary secretary assigned to him until he was ready to pass the torch onto the next Director in line. He casually signed another document and flipped it face down on the growing pile next to him. He may have stepped back from the Grindlewald investigation, but he was still determined to have his office as clean a slate as he could before the poor sap was initiated into the position.

       There had been three days between Theseus's visit and this one, and Percival had used the time to work out a strategy that didn't have him tossing the son of a bitch in the holding cells for child abuse long since past the constitute of limitations. Or involved a fist plowing into the smug features over and over again until he had satisfaction. The best nonviolent option he could manage was complete disregard. Humiliation and dismissal, two of the best bully strategies his own father had passed down to him when he was just starting his schooling.

       _"Listen here, boy. You're a Graves. Someone comes at you, you set them straight, then cold shoulder them. If that doesn't work, then I expect you to win the fight."_ Okay, so his father's teachings hadn't all been nonviolent. But schoolboy antics could be excused as harmless, while grown men had a different set of expectations. That wasn't to say that Percival was adverse to... No. No, that wouldn't do. He thought of Artemis, now safely in the company of the youngest Goldstein as they put the finishing touches on their wedding reception plans. In his mind's eye, he saw her smile as it had grown into something spectacular when he had presented her with the train tickets to Washington State as her honeymoon gift.

       No, for her sake, he would do his best to keep his cool and send the bastard on his way without the satisfaction. For a man like Archibald Scamander, dismissal was worse than a beating.

       "Percival, it's been a few years since we've seen each other face to face," Mr. Scamander started, having the audacity to take a seat on the sofa across from Percy's desk. He casually crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap, settling in as if for a long, friendly visit. "I wasn't aware that your manners had degraded so far in the time since you were last housed at my home."

       Percival closed his eyes briefly and inhaled a calming breath before carefully setting his ink pen down. He was exceedingly glad that MACUSA had long since gotten rid of quills and ink; the mess was much easier to deal with like this, and his men's penmanship had improved by leaps and bounds. Before he could answer, the older man was continuing.

       "I'm not up on the American customs pertaining to marriage contracts, but I believe it's still good behavior to ask permission from the girl's father before going forward with the wedding itself."

       "And I believe that custom is null and void if the father disowns the child, am I wrong?" Percival kept his voice very even, very low, and very cold. He finally looked at the man that had made his fiancé's growing years a nightmare. Archibald was a tall and wiry man with thinning reddish blonde hair and a once handsome face that hadn't aged well. His eyes were a cold light brown that catalogued everything and made snap judgements. Theseus and Artemis had gotten his build, with the son filling out with the more muscular disposition of their mother while keeping the height. The rest was debatable, as their mother had rich auburn hair and the freckles she worked diligently to disguise with cosmetic charms. Their eyes, both with warm amber-green, seemed to come from a different relative altogether, as their mother had wide blue eyes that seemed to always carry a sheen of tears.

      "Semantics," Archibald waved his hand negligently. "It was for her own good, as you know our Artemis's wild way of doing as she pleases without regard for others. She would have had us drained broke within a year if I'd allowed it. Disownment, while unpleasant, was the best option available to teach a lasting lesson."

       A muscle ticked in Percival's cheek. "Don't try to bullshit me. Artemis had a contract with her employer that allowed for her travel expenses and anything she may require. She'd earned her spot while serving in the war, then proved herself to her superiors. There was no threat to the family money, and you know it."

       "I don't appreciate the tone you're taking with me, son."

      "There's the door."

       There was a frozen silence as the two men glared at each other in a stalemate. Finally, Archibald looked away, color coming into his cheeks. "I'm here to speak to you about your marriage to my daughter."

       "I don't have the mood nor the time for this, Mr. Scamander. I have a wedding to attend tomorrow morning, and after that we'll be leaving on extended travels. As you have made yourself perfectly clear with where you stand with your daughter, you have no pull or influence-" 

       "I dare say-"

       "You do have a lot of daring," Percival interrupted, heat creeping into his tone. "Coming in here, acting as if you have all the right in the world. Let me inform you that you do not. If it's _permission_ that you've come to be affronted about, Theseus has already given his blessing and is standing as my best man, as well as godfather to our blood-adopted son. As the only family that hasn't thrown her away, his is the only opinion that matters in my book."

      "You're making a mistake," Archibald spat, his casual posture ruined when he planted both feet on the floor and clutched his hands onto his knees, leaning forward angrily. "That hellion isn't worth the trouble you'll be put through, Percival. I can and will make your life unbearable. And blood adopting a street urchin? One with tainted origins? You'll be putting yourself on a blacklist. I can guarantee that you'll live to regret-"

       "Threats won't get you anywhere," Percival cut in again, coldly stopping him before he really got his rhythm started. "I shouldn't even begin to address your bullshit or give you any sort of satisfaction, but I feel it necessary. This isn't the British Ministry, and you have no pull here. Even if you did, I'm officially leaving office as of five o'clock today; there is no career to forfeit. As for 'ruining' me, as the last surviving Graves, I assure you I can do whatever I like and carry whichever label I please. I can marry the woman I desire most and have the highest esteemed official, socialite, and politician clap me on the back and say, 'well done, chap.' As you know, old money and a sterling reputation brings a lot of forgiveness."

       "Your reputation will be irreparably damaged if you marry that disgrace."

       "Kindly remove yourself from my office immediately, _sir_ ," Percival ground out, resisting the urge to shoot to his feet. If he left his chair, he knew he'd find himself in a physical altercation, and that was the last thing he wanted. Not when he was so close to the end of his day and the beginning of a new life. He wanted to, though. He wanted to hurt the other man more than he'd ever wanted to hurt someone in his life.

       "Now see here," Archibald blustered, but when Percival stood up, his hands fisted into balls of rage on the top of his desk, he subsided, getting to his own feet. "You are making a mistake."

       "No," a new voice interrupted then, and both the men turned to see a red-faced Artemis standing just inside Percival's office, a brown paper bag clutched in one hand and three cups of steaming liquid floating just over her shoulder. "No, you're the one that made a mistake, Papa. You need to do as Percy asked and leave. You're neither wanted or required here."

       "You ruin everything you touch, you ungrateful trollop," Archibald immediately turned on her, venting his anger the same way he always had. Only this time he had witnesses. "I should have sent you off to the orphanage-"

       Credence stepped around Artemis then, his face coldly furious as curls of black mist started to form around him. "I suggest you don't finish that statement, sir." The young man's voice had taken on a hollow sort of quality, and Artemis dropped the bag with their lunch and gently took his hand.

       "Credence, darling, he's not worth it," Artemis told him, but the watery tremble in her voice made him that much angrier. He resisted when she tried to pull him behind her, instead stepping firmly to protect her from the perceived threat.

       "He's not going to hurt you." Credence was still a couple inches shorter than Artemis, but the months of loving care had given him much more substance. He squared his shoulders, and the hand not clutching hers was balled into a tight fist at his side. "Not anymore."

       "Cree, he hasn't-," Artemis tried again, but was cut off by a near violent shake of his head.

       "Don't lie to me, Mum." Artemis went perfectly still behind him, her breath sucking in sharply as he almost casually dropped the name. He seemed to have realized what he'd said right at the same time, and went rigid as he waited for her reaction.

       Her father all but forgotten in only the way Artemis could, she breathed, "Oh, Credence." He was almost afraid to look at her, expecting... he didn't know what he was expecting really. He hadn't meant to say it like that, even though in his head he'd been thinking of her as 'mum' since before she and Percival had asked him to be their son.

       He focused his pitch-black eyes on the man that had dared to take a step toward her in anger and saw him shiver at the deadly, electric power filling the room. "You don't ever come near her in anger again."

       "Credence," Percival was around his desk and moving toward them, a hint of pride glinting in his eyes even as his face remained stoic. "Mr. Scamander was just leaving. He's not a threat to your mother. Not now, and not ever again."

       "You are all certifiable," Archibald huffed, drawing himself up to his own impressive height, though there was a tremble to his hands as he straightened his vest and placed his hat back on his head with a bit too much force. "I was glad to see the end of you before, Artemis, and this visit just reinstated that. Don't come trying to crawl back home when they tire of you, as they will when they realize how much of a true burden you are. Those doors are closed to you."

       He was shoving past them then, carefully not touching anyone as he strode out with as much dignity as he could muster.

       The moment he disappeared out of sight, ignoring the hostile stares of the aurors that had gathered and inadvertently overheard their conversations, Percival gently closed his office door and locked it with a wordless charm. Then he gathered his soon to be bride up and held her close. She was shaking, and instead of fighting him, she fisted her hands in his shirt under his vest and buried her face in his neck, allowing the feel and scent of him wash through her senses.

       After a moment, she reached out a hand blindly for Credence, who took it and allowed her to draw him in closer.

       "Thank you," she whispered, lifting her face, "Both of you." 

       "He was wrong, you know," Credence spoke up, not quite looking at her. There were spots of high color in his cheeks and he still sounded upset as he continued, "You... you're not a burden, and you don't ruin things. We won't ever get tired of you."

       "Oh, darling, I know," Artemis soothed him, turning so that she was still half in Percival's embrace and cupped Credence's jaw in her palm. She caught his eyes and smiled sadly. "His words lost the ability to hurt a long time ago. It goes in and then right back out. My world hasn't been enmeshed with theirs for a very, very long time. How else would I have gained such a beautiful family?"

        Percival kissed her temple and smiled at both of them, then tried to break the tension, "So, I noticed you brought lunch? What do you say about taking it out to the park to enjoy it? It's a bit cold, but I think some fresh air may be good for us, huh?"

*~*~*

       The study was brightly lit and a bit too warm for his taste, but Theseus wasn't planning on being there long. He stood in the doorway and just observed his father for a moment, marveling that he and Art had come directly from a man so cold and inhuman. The house elves had let him in, and he was happy to note that his mother was nowhere to be found. What he had to say wasn't going to be friendly and he would rather not have the added dramatics.

       "Theseus!" His father looked pleased to see him, a bright smile creeping across his face when he finally looked up to see him in the doorway. "Come in, son! It's been a while since you've been home. How are things at MOM?"

       "I'm not staying long," Theseus told him, not moving any further into the room. He casually put his hands in his pocket and left his posture deceptively loose.

       "Come, take a seat. You should never be in too much of a hurry to sit and chat with your old man." His father waved at the armchairs arranged in front of the fireplace, getting to his feet to move toward the liquor cabinet. "Brandy?"

       "No, thank you, this isn't a social visit, I'm afraid."

       "Oh?" Pausing, his father glanced back at him before ignoring his refusal and poured two tumblers of rich amber liquor. "What is it about then?"

       "I just put papers into Gringotts to remove myself from the Scamander scrolls. I will be taking Mother's maiden name from here on out, and I renounce the heirship. The next in line will be Aunt Meredith's eldest spawn. I could have just let you be served with the papers, but I wanted to explain why."

        Archibald turned and stared at him, the freshly poured liquor clutched in one hand.

        "I can no longer be a part of a family that exalts one child over the other. I should have done this years ago, and I'm ashamed to admit it. For years I was unaware of your treatment of my sister, either by willful ignorance or just being utterly blind. Then when it was shoved into the light, I still continued to reap the benefits of being the favored while stepping back emotionally. I supported her where I could and played the game. Out of sight, out of mind. You didn't have a heavy hand in her affairs anymore, so the active abuse had stopped."

       "Your sister never wanted for anything as she grew," his father rebuffed with a dismissive wave of his hand, sipping at the burning liquid. "And if she had worked a bit harder to acclimate, there wouldn't have been a need to be so forceful. In the end, I did what I felt was necessary to protect-"

       "To protect whom?" Theseus's voice was clipped and furious. "Certainly not your daughter. Was it really so bad that she didn't care to follow the traditional roles, that she was intelligent and curious? You had to try and beat it out of her. You convinced her that it was her fault, so much so that she accepted further abuse from others."

       "It was her fault, Theseus. A girl child should act as a girl child. Was it so hard for her to-"

       "That's enough," Theseus cut him off with an angry gesture. "I'm not going to listen anymore, as I have better things to attend. Don't try to contact me, as all efforts will be refused. As of this moment, we are dead to each other. Good day, sir."

         Without waiting for a response, Theseus turned on his heel and strode from the room and down the hallways of his youth, ignoring his father's increasingly frantic calls of his name. He felt lighter than he had in years, despite the sadness that lingered. When he had heard of the disastrous meeting, he'd known there was only one option. By taking this step and removing himself publicly from the Scamander lineage, it did far more damage to his father than anything else he could have attempted.

          He had an interview all lined up with the Daily Prophet, and a public renouncement already written. But that was all secondary. Stepping outside the wards of his childhood home, Theseus apparated to the MOM offices where he engaged the prearranged portkey to New York. He had a wedding to attend.

*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the timeline of this, their wedding ended up taking a couple weeks to get together instead of Percy's 'by the weekend' goal. :D


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very, very sorry this took so long! Omg, where did the time go?!? To be honest, my mind has been away from my writing for a while. Thank you guys so much for all the support and love you've given me while I was writing this. Really, without you, I wouldn't have come this far. That said, there'll be one more chapter to this monster, which I'll be working to get out by the end of this week. Then I have a series of one-shots stewing in my brain ;) So much love, and I hope you guys enjoy this!

*~*~*

          Theseus held onto Queenie Goldstein’s delicate hand like it was the last lifeline in a drowning world as they watched his baby sister join his best friend in marriage. At first embarrassed, then utterly grateful and relieved for the silent support, the ginger haired auror clung to the beautiful woman. He hadn’t been prepared for the rush of emotion that had come through him witnessing the culmination of nearly a lifetime of longing and misconception. He’d prepared himself for some of it, of course. In his heart, he still wanted to spirit her away and keep her safe, to try and fix the damage done. But that wasn’t fair. She was happy, happier than he’d ever seen her outside of the hippogriff pens when they were children and she was just learning to fly.

          He had never seen Artemis look so effortlessly feminine, or so overwhelmingly joyful as she did standing under the magicked arbor in Central Park. For some odd reason, Percival had insisted on a night time wedding near the lake, adding muggle swans to the mix. Theseus had tried to argue that the bloody swans were a bad idea, but his friend had been stubborn on the concept; until the feathered bastards had taken after the well-meaning crew sent to set everything up, and left a palm sized bruise on Percy’s shin when he’d come to do damage control. Now, despite Art’s vehement discontent, the vicious things were corralled behind a sparkling magicked barrier to stop them from attacking the small crowd gathered to witness. If Theseus had his way, they’d have been frozen and placed around as decoration since his barmy friend had wanted the damn things so much. Who knew Percival bloody Graves had a romantic side to him. Swans. Merlin help him, they really were the perfect match.

           The setup was stunning, he had to admit. Warming charms and faerie lights lit up the scene, the slightly muddy ground transfigured into a beautiful stone platform where mahogany benches lined both sides of the aisle. The night sky was naked above their heads, a rare evening clear of clouds so the stars shone in all their glory, ringed by four pillars holding up garlands of ivy and some other plants that Theseus had no idea what they were, except that they held a plethora of small blue, purple, and white flowers that scented the air with a light, sweet aroma that wasn’t overpowering. It was pleasant and reminded him of spring, though the air outside this little area by the water was frigid with the last vestiges of February. His baby sister had wanted a spring wedding, so they’d given her a spring wedding.

           He and Credence had walked her down the aisle, through the smiling forms of the people who loved and cared for them the most before taking their spots on either side of the altar. Credence had gone to stand with Tina, and Theseus had gone to stand next to Queenie. His heart had ached for Art that their parents were absent, though she’d long since accepted that they weren’t going to support her choices as long as she refused to follow the life-plan they’d chosen for her. Wanting some familiar faces, Theseus had reached out to some of her old Hogwarts professors and one or two of the friends he remembered her mentioning in passing. With Art, even earning a mention was worth gold; his sister was very selective in who she carried around in her heart and memories. A few had been rather hard to track down, but there was a small contingent of brightly garbed older women from India and a pale, scarred man with a quick, intelligent demeanor and a thick Romanian accent settled in among Percival’s aurors. He knew he’d made the right choice when Artemis had lit up at the sight of them at what served as a rehearsal dinner the night before. She’d accepted the loving embraces warmly, laughing as the strange man scooped her up off her feet in a show of uncanny strength that belied his lanky frame. They’d chatted in rapid Romanian, his sister speaking the tongue as if it was her own until Percival had sided up and not-so-subtly pulled her to his side with a possessive hand on her hip.

          Amused, but satisfied that his friend wasn’t letting the overly friendly unknown male monopolize his sister, Theseus had joined in the festivities and tried to glean more about the man that seemed to know Art a little too well. Some things never changed, and he had wondered briefly if he’d made a mistake in inviting this particular friend. That was, until he’d been introduced to Roman and there was an immediate flash of sultry dark eyes and a quick side to Artemis in flirty Romanian. His sister had belted out that contagious laugh of hers that had always made him feel all warm and a bit worried.

          If Theseus hadn’t picked up on it over the ensuing conversation in broken English and a bit of highly amused translation from Artemis, he certainly figured it out when he was seated next to Roman at the table and felt a warm hand trail up his thigh. Art, situated next to her fiancé at the head of the table and to his right, raised her wine glass with a smirk. They hadn’t openly discussed his preferences, but she was smart and far too observant for her own good, and they’d shared a flat for stretches of time when she’d needed a break from her travels. Wizards were just as common as witches in his bedroom.

          While not taboo in their world, he knew that muggles had this hang up about it that he’d never understood; he was content for it to be an open secret. By the end of the night, after one too many glasses (bottles) of wine, he’d allowed himself to be lured back to the hotel where all of them were staying. Language barrier notwithstanding, there were other ways to communicate, and he felt he’d represented himself well enough.

          Percival, the poor bloke, was still in a strop over it, however. Through the night, the groom to be was alternating between glaring icicles at the man he saw as being overly familiar with Art, and being incredibly handsy. For the most part, his sister was oblivious to the behavior, for once thoroughly enjoying herself with only her closest circle of friends and family. No one had bothered to put him out of his misery, letting him stew. For someone as astute as Graves, he really could be dense sometimes.

          Finally, over breakfast, Queenie had made a sly comment that had lit the proverbial lightbulb. When the former director burst into uncharacteristic guffaws, turning his face into Artemis’s neck, everyone had been utterly confused but joined in with rolled eyes and shaking heads. Artemis, for her part just smiled into the top of his head and patted his back from her spot on his lap. The quiet room at the back of the hotel restaurant was private enough for her to be comfortable with the open physical contact, which was why she’d allowed it, not even thinking that this possessive behavior was because he was jealous.

          Now, looking at her glowing face and the absolute adoration reflected back in everything Percival was, Theseus felt a wash of overwhelming emotion. This was what he’d always wanted for Art. The devotion and bullheaded protectiveness that he wasn’t able to provide, and she wouldn’t accept even if he could. Queenie squeezed his hand and offered a lilac scented handkerchief that he took gratefully to dab at his tears discreetly. He had a moment to be happy that this was here on American soil where his department couldn’t see their hardass boss bawling like a bloody idiot.

*~*~*

          As Artemis stared into Percival’s dark, dark eyes, she felt as if she were floating. Everything was surreal and not quite all there; the edges just seemed to shine and waver just a bit. The words had been spoken, and all the rituals done. On their fingers were the gold bands that served as the physical representation of their commitment, and Artemis was having a difficult time looking away from their joined hands.

          They were moving gently through the dance floor to a flowing, achingly beautiful song that they’d entrusted Queenie to choose for their first dance as husband and wife. It was an instrumental piece filled with piano and violin, the clear notes floating through the tiny ballroom at MACUSA that President Picquery had graciously offered up for the reception area. Artemis had been nervous about being in front of so many eyes, afraid that she’d flub up and ruin it all with her clumsiness. She was much better with tribal drums and bonfires than classical dancing in ballrooms.

          But the moment Percival had taken her hand and led her out onto the shining floor, looking so dashing and gorgeous, his eyes only for her, all of that had melted away. His hand had been large and warm on her waist, steadying and leaving a hot tingle of awareness. When he’d pulled her close, she’d blushed and focused on his lips, the curve of them and the color, more than ready to taste them again… and again and again. The music became a pleasant backdrop, and the faces of their friends and family faded back, and it was just them. The press of his broad chest and narrow hips, his hand in hers, his breath against her ear.

          “I love you,” he whispered, and she shivered, turning her face into his. When their mouths met, their feet faltered, and everything went still. The cheers of the crowd around them made her startle, but he stopped her retreat by cupping the back of her head and pulling her in deeper. Fingers buried in her sleekly curled hair, he licked delicately at her lips until she opened for him again and it was just the two of them once more.

          When they pulled back, it took a moment for the noise and lights to come back in. When they did, Artemis could feel her face burning, even as her smile was so wide it almost hurt.

          “I love you,” Percival repeated reverently, resting his forehead against hers. “Artemis Graves, you are the light and reason in my life.”

          “I love you, too,” Artemis breathed. “So much, Percival Graves, so much I can’t breathe looking at you.”

           The other dancers took the floor, swirling and whooping around them as the tempo and volume of the music rose. Laughing, they retreated to the sidelines to watch for a while. Her heart felt so full it could burst, seeing Theseus take a whirl around with her old friend, Roman. They’d gotten on about as well as she’d thought they would, and seeing their handsome, swirling figures moving so smoothly it was almost as if they’d always been partnered made her wish she’d introduced them long before now.

           Queenie was dancing with Jacob, who had been smuggled in under the very carefully worded permission of their president. In other words, Seraphina was turning a blind eye to the law and forgetting she’d seen anything with the understanding that the younger Miss Goldstein was going to be leaving with her no-maj lover within the year. Theseus had offered to help set up Jacob’s bakery in London after seeing the operation in full swing. He’d never admit it, but he really liked the muggle, _and_ his pastries. Beyond that, Artemis’s brother had grown close with Queenie, seeing beneath the exterior she presented to others. It helped that during the mess with Grindlewald, Tina had finally shown her mettle. There was a spot for her among his aurors that she’d taken eagerly now that Graves was stepping down from Director.

           The evening progressed, Artemis struggled to not tug Percival into a dark corner or apparate the two of them back to his flat. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention for so long, and it was making her jumpy. She’d nixed the tradition of throwing the bouquet and there was no way she was allowing anyone to pull her garter off to throw it into a random mix of men. Besides, the crowd was too small for such shenanigans.

            The cake was a gorgeous creation that Jacob had presented for them right before the reception. It was all gold and cream, with miniature frosting recreations of her beasts all along the base. It actually made her a bit teary to cut it, which was silly. The entire night was making her weepy, the joy of it seeping into her very marrow. She couldn’t remember a time where she’d ever been surrounded by so many people she loved.

           The toasting came along, and everyone hushed into near silence when Theseus stood up and lightly tapped the side of his wineglass. “I’ll make this brief, because I know my beautiful sister isn’t one for all this attention, and I know my best friend is ready to disappear into the shadows to spirit her away.”

           He stopped and looked down, obviously trying to pull himself together. When he raised his face again, he locked eyes with Artemis. “I haven’t been the best big brother to you over the years. My actions, and inactions, have hurt you far, far deeper than I know you’ll ever say.” He paused again and swallowed hard. He attempted a shaky smile, glancing around at everyone gathered at the large table, “Honestly, I wasn’t going to go so soppy, but the words have to be said, yeah?”

           Percival squeezed Artemis’s hand under the table and kissed her temple as she leaned into him.

           “Artemis, my darling, you are the bravest, strongest person I have ever known.” Theseus caught her gaze again, and let all of the turbulent emotions show. “I’m in utter awe of what you’ve accomplished and how you’ve flourished despite the odds stacked against you, some of which I added to. I could go on about this in full detail, but I won’t, as this is a happy occasion and I don’t want to embarrass you anymore than I already have. Percy, my oldest friend, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to be at her side. You’ll both do well to keep the other safe. Just… stay away from the bloody dragons, will ya? I’m not sure my heart can take it.”

           Artemis stood and crossed behind the other guests to embrace her brother. When they pulled apart, she half-joked, “You know I can’t make any promises, right? It’s _dragons,_ Theseus.”

          He groaned and swatted at her backside as she returned to her new husband. “That’s what I’m bloody well worried about.”

          After that and a few more heartfelt toasts, the reception devolved into a full party and Percival finally guided her to the coat check. Credence was staying with the Goldstein sisters for the next week while they took to travel on honeymoon. Only the week, however, as his new parents were eager to have him join their traveling adventures. There were no formal goodbyes, the eager couple just slipped away and into the night. No one was surprised, and at that point the firewhiskey had replaced wine and no one really noticed.

*~*~*

*~*~*


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sad and so happy to finally finish this! Thank all of you for taking the time to read and enjoy this. All of the beautiful comments and kudos you've left have made my sometimes dark days so much brighter. In all seriousness, if it wasn't for your support on this thing, I may never have completed it. That said, I'm certainly not done with the AU I created, and there's going to be some shorter adventures with Art, Percy, and Credence. They'll all be linked to this one, of course, so it'll be easy enough to find- I hope. And as a quick warning, utter smut in the first part of this chapter, and then epic fluff.

 

*~*~*

          Gripping the bedpost, Artemis tried desperately to not shout out her pleasure as her husband pushed himself inside her. The silencing charms should still be holding, but one could never be too careful, especially when staying at an inn that somehow doubled as a muggle church that offered full services for those ‘wandering souls that needed fortifying’. The dour faced woman that had greeted them in the lobby had eyed Artemis’s short hair and men’s trousers with disapproval, but they’d booked in advance and paid up front. She couldn’t turn down the coin, especially when it was off season in the small American seaside town and lodgers were few and far between.

          The leaflet advertising the sermon times had gone in the bin the moment she and Percy had stepped into their room. There had been two twin beds spaced a good three feet apart- they had promptly magicked them together into one large four-poster monstrosity, a wardrobe and a nicely sized copper tub situated behind a changing screen in the corner. Percival had immediately charmed the tub wide enough to fit the both of them. It’d been costlier than Artemis was comfortable with, but her new husband had looked at her with that fond look that told her she was worrying for the sake of worrying. She still wasn’t used to the concept of not having to follow a tight budget. Through the years, she hadn’t had to go without often, but she’d learned early on that it was wise to keep to the necessities just in case. Emergencies happened, and she would have rather eaten lava than floo her brother or her supervisor for more funds.

          Percival’s hands were heavy on her hips, fingers biting in to pull her back as she trembled and dropped her spine, legs spreading just slightly to give him more room. They’d had each other as much as possible since they’d left their wedding reception three days ago, and she thanked the gods for the stock of potions Queenie had gifted them with a gleeful wink and a booklet on which did what and how. At the time, Artemis had blushed to the roots of her hair and secreted them away and out of prying eyes. The moment Percival found them, she’d known it was a lost cause. Embarrassment forgotten with the discovery of a certain stamina potion with chocolate highlights, the alchemist in her had taken over and there was a running list of the ones to replicate.

          A couple more powerful thrusts had her knees buckling, and Percy scooped her up to toss her back onto the bed they’d already wrecked. Too far gone from their heavy buildup, Percival covered her quickly and cupped his hands behind her knees to hold them up near his chest. The breathy sounds that escaped her made the muscle in his jaw tick and his mouth found her ear.

          She shuddered when he whispered, “One day, I’m going to have you screaming my name under me, sweetheart. I’ll be the only one that’s ever done it, won’t I?”

          “G-gods, Percy,” she whimpered as her body drew taut, coming closer and closer the harder he moved.

          “That’s not quite what I was aiming for,” his voice was a low growl against her earlobe and sounded far too amused for someone about to fly apart. His hips snapped sharply upward and her entire body lit up, clamping down around him, her long fingers gripping his hair and holding him to her in an almost painful jerk. It was enough for him to curse and spill himself deep inside that beautiful warmth.

          As they lay there recovering, he pressed soft, tender kisses along her eyes and the sides of her face. She smiled and stroked his hair, squirming just a little when he moved from her face to her neck, to her collarbone. Her thighs were soaked with their combined release, and she ached so pleasantly. It was too soon for another go ‘round, so she was a bit relieved when he stopped and merely rested his head on her breast instead of continuing down.

         It had taken a bit, but he’d finally realized that she wasn’t as fragile as she looked, and she thanked the stars for small miracles. She loved the weight of him, both during and after sex. The reassuring press of his muscled body keeping her grounded was something she never, in a million years thought would be as tantalizing as it really was. He seemed to take comfort in it as well, the feel of her slowly relaxing under him and the sound of her heartbeat in his ear.

         “I love you,” he murmured, pressing his mouth against the skin over her heart.

         She squeezed her eyes closed and held him tighter as she whispered it back.

*~*~*~   

          “Are you sure you want to do this,” Artemis asked, the small brown potion vial in her hand as she fixed Credence with a solemn look. “I’m not trying to talk you out of it, love, but I just want to make sure you’re not doing this to please us. I don’t want you to think that…”

         Credence reached out and took her free hand, a rare, fond smile curving his mouth upward. “Mum, I want to do this. I _really_ want to take the chance while it’s offered. Professor Dumbledore explained all of it, and we talked out all the benefits and the drawbacks. I trust you and Papa, more than I have anyone else; you won’t hurt me.”

         Percival kissed her temple and took the potion from her, handing it to Credence. It had been nearly a year since they’d all come together as a family, with their marriage and Credence’s blood adoption. Over that year, Artemis had been working a side project, researching ways to reverse the physical and mental damages her new son had suffered at the hands of _that awful woman_. She’d uncovered something in a tome her former professor had loaned her once he’d learned of her quest. He’d also provided the Phoenix tears and downy plumage needed to brew the potion, as well as the tutelage on how to bring it about.

        Three months of squirreling away time while trying not to let on what she was doing had brought results. Percival had been suspicious, but pleasantly surprised when she’d finally been comfortable enough to bring it to him. He’d been worried that she was plotting some incredibly dangerous adventure that he’d potentially have to try and talk her out of. She’d been wary of approaching it, as they hadn’t discussed having children. Credence, as he was, wasn’t a child as such. He was a teenager, and fully functional as a young man and didn’t need extra caregiving. If… _when_ this was successful, it would bring him back to the age he’d been before the abuse had started. Considering that Credence had little to no memory of his family before Mary Lou, Artemis was positive it would take him back to the toddling age.

        Percival had been excited and enthusiastic at the idea, taking the opportunity to kiss her senseless before confessing that he’d been trying to think of ways to approach something similar. Credence deserved to have the childhood he’d been denied. It was in their power to give it to him, and so they would. The conversation that had followed brought to light her husband’s desire to have more children, and his hesitance in speaking to her about it. He hadn’t wanted to pressure her into such a lifestyle changing move, though he’d been secretly hoping his seed would catch anyway and they wouldn’t have had to broach the subject.

        All of that had brought them here, to the infirmary at Hogwarts so that the school mediwitch and various professors could assist if needed. The potions master was someone that Artemis didn’t know, but Dumbledore had vouched for him, as well as for the new apprentice healer that seemed a bit on the shady side to her paranoid eyes. It wasn’t that they required strict secrecy, but it wouldn’t do well to have any sort of information leak with Grindlewald’s followers still at large with an agenda to finish. Still, Percival had drafted a Wizard’s Contract that swore everyone involved to utter silence. Once an auror, always an auror.

       Theseus was posted at the door to the back room of the infirmary, his presence reassuring to everyone- save the potions master, who seemed to be intimidated by the intense glare he’d leveled on everyone in the room before going to greet his family. He’d wrapped an arm around Credence after he’d kissed his sister’s cheek and gave a firm squeeze. Once it had sunk in, he’d taken his duties as godfather seriously and, like he approached everything to do with family, his intensity had been a bit overwhelming. It had taken Credence a while to get used to it, but now there was a comfortable bond between the two.

       Mary Lou Barebone hadn’t stood a chance after the ashes settled from the Grindlewald fiasco, wizarding laws concerning no-majs completely ignored. The woman was living out her days in a muggle asylum for the criminally insane, raving about witches and demons when she wasn’t sedated for her own protection. She'd been charged with murder and extreme child endangerment, neglect, and abuse and found guilty in the muggle court system with the help of a bit of wizarding help. Theseus thought the dreary prison fitting punishment. No one believed her, no one helped her, and no one really cared. She was just another body in a room.

       Credence held the vial in slightly trembling fingers and just stared at it for a moment. Everything would change the moment he drank it. The obscurus would be gone, his memories would be gone, and his scars would melt away. All the years he’d lived under Mary Lou’s harsh control would go to the ether. The records would show it, but otherwise it would just be erased. He'd already been erased from the no-maj system with his 'death'. He looked up at his adoptive parents and felt a surge of love mixed with fear. Looking over at his godfather standing guard, he knew that this second childhood would be a true blessing.

        He took a deep breath and sat down on the readied bed, raising the bottle to his lips.

*~*~*

         “Mama! Mama! Mama!” Artemis stirred from her books and turned to look at the little boy that rushed in through the cottage door just ahead of his father. Cree, as they’d decided to call him, was flushed from excitement and being outside in the mild sunlight. His dark hair was tousled and the amber-green eyes he’d taken from her shone like precious stones as he flew into her arms when she opened them just in time. “Mama, Da said we’re going to Sc’lnd, is it true? Are we g’na see the… the…”

         “Leprechauns,” Percival provided with a laugh, removing his coat to hang it on the hook near the door.

         “Well, this is the first I’ve heard of it,” Artemis teased, narrowing her eyes at her husband over their son’s head. “But I suppose if your Da said we were, then it must be true.”

         “Surprise, Mama!” Cree was a bit late on the delivery, but he more than made up for it in enthusiasm. At five years old, he was a precious thing that made everything that much brighter. There was nothing left of the darkness that had haloed his older visage. He’d truly been given a second chance, and Artemis prayed every day that she and Percival were doing right by him.

         “Surprise,” Percival echoed, and when he pressed a kiss to her mouth over Cree’s head, she couldn’t find it in her to be peeved. Besides, she was always up for another adventure. Over the last few months, they’d been stationary as she’d put together the outline for her follow up book to Fantastic Beasts and started planning a book signing tour MOM had been insisting on since her book had become a global phenomenon. It was nearing the end of her contract and they were wanting to get the most out of it while she was still obligated.

          Besides, she wanted to get as much travel in before it became too difficult. While the boys were exceedingly pleased with their surprise, Artemis had one better. Cuddling Cree in her lap, she pressed kisses to the top of his head before directing Percival casually to look over the scroll that was nestled on the top of the papers strewn over his desk. Her heart tripped a little nervously in her chest as she listened to his footsteps going into his study and then stop.

          Cree was still chattering on, but she was listening intently to the movement in the other room. There was a suspended moment, then the sound of her husband’s weight hitting his chair. Feeling a bit sick, she hummed to Cree and waited. It didn’t take long.

          When Percival reappeared in the kitchen doorway, one hand braced against the jam and one clutching the St. Mungos scroll with her test results, her smile trembled. “Surprise.”

          He hit his knees in front of her chair, face lit with a joy she hadn’t seen on him before, and the unnecessary fear melted away. There were actual tears in his eyes as he tugged his wife and son into his arms, Cree squirming with a little boy’s uncomfortable need to not be held down. Artemis let him off her lap and laughed when Percy took the opportunity to bring them to their feet. He cradled her face in his hands and just stared at her for a long moment, searching her face.

          “Are we really?” His voice was less than steady, and she tried to blink away her own tears that blurred the edges of her vision.

          “We’re really,” she whispered. He looked down at her still flat tummy and then pressed a long, emotional kiss to her lips. When he knelt down again and pressed his ear to her middle, she threaded her fingers into his hair and just soaked in the moment.

 

*~*~*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Nequam_Tenshi for the suggestion of de-aging Credence. My imagination ran wild with it. <3


End file.
